Pierced Hearts
by FFcrazy15
Summary: When the Southern king threatens disaster unless Elsa marries Hans, the two grudgingly agree to work together to fool him and save Arendelle. But everyone is keeping secrets, and meanwhile, an ancient enemy has waited centuries for her revenge: to curse the world in endless winter. (Newly edited version! Doesn't follow sequel; incorporates HCA's original Snow Queen tale.)
1. Prologue: Part I

**Prologue, Part I**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**Second Disclaimer: Cover Art texture credit goes to _PrincessBubblebutt _on _Deviantart, _or Cynical Romance. com (remove the spaces).**

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_Once, long, long ago, an angel fell from Heaven._

_It is a story known all throughout the world, one with which we must each day live—and one which affects our story tonight at its core. For when the Devil was cast from Heaven and fell to Hell for his pride, he swore to spite God in all he did. You know of the apple, how he made mankind, too, as fallen as he. You know of the Cross, how mankind was redeemed at the greatest price. You know of your own lives, how you have allowed good to triumph on some days… and bad on others._

_Evil delights in those days when your hearts are cold with bitterness or hot with fury, but do not believe he is content to sit on the sidelines and watch! No, for as subtle as the he may be, in his spite he can never be happy, and seeks only to bring unhappiness to all creation, as well. And so one day, oh, many generations ago, Evil created a mirror._

_This was no ordinary mirror, children; no, this was a lying mirror, a twisted mirror, for it showed only the worst parts of people, never the good. It made all the world as ugly and terrible as its creator. The most tender-hearted of people would appear diabolical in its reflection, and the most beautiful of landscapes like scorched, lifeless ground. The Devil was cruelly proud of his terrible invention, and he boasted to his demons that he would bring the mirror to Heaven, to make God Himself look uglier than the devils._

_But as Evil tried to ascend to Heaven, from whence he had been cast, he found himself shrieking with agony at the beauty and goodness. The mirror, formed of hatred and bitterness, likewise could not withstand the light and love of which Heaven is composed, and so, as both it and its maker cowered and descended again to darkness, the mirror shattered into a million pieces, and these pieces fell to the earth. Even still today, if you travel to the northern countries, and venture into the woods thereof, you can hear the mountain men sing of the demon mirror:_

"_In times long gone,_

_And times long past,_

_The devil's work_

_Created glass_

_Of kind and nature most profane._

_He tried to fly_

_To Heav'n above_

_To shame the Lord_

_But see, for love_

_Was the dreadful mirror's bane._

_So shattered glass._

_And again, both fell,_

_Shards to earth,_

_Devil to Hell._

_Never to meet again._

_But mankind, so cursed_

_By a curse long past_

_Was tormented by_

_The mirror's glass,_

_And to the earth the shards did rain._

_But fear not, men,_

_For curses have no part,_

_Nor power over_

_The pure of heart._

_And love will triumph and ever reign."_

_These pieces were blown about by the winds, into people's eyes, into their hearts. You may have heard the story of how one of these pieces got stuck into a young boy's eye, and his heart became cold and bitter, and he was taken by the Snow Queen to her palace in the far north. This young boy's dearest friend, a little girl, followed him valiantly to the Snow Queen's lair—braving a sorceress, robbers, and snow monsters—until she found her friend in the Queen's frozen castle. Her tears warmed his heart, and together their innocence, purity and love defeated the Snow Queen's power, and they escaped again to the warm world below._

_The two children eventually grew up, and they were married. Their marriage was a very happy one, but in all their years together they were never blessed with a family of their own. When the woman, by now aged, heard that the Queen of her kingdom was to have a child, she and her husband went to the castle to offer their services as nursemaid and footman. They vowed to care for the child as their own, and the queen gratefully accepted._

_The infant was born, a beautiful girl with dark hair like her mother's. The exhausted queen left the girl in her new nursemaid's care, and she took the child to the cradle in the baby's nursery. She did not notice that the window was open, and as she turned away, a strange new woman entered the room through the window, lifted from the ground as if by swirling winter winds._

_She approached the cradle silently, and the baby shrank back, terrified of the strange white-haired woman, who was dressed like a queen of ice and snow. The strange woman held out a large shard of ice-like glass to the baby, glinting in the light, and the infant began to wail._

_The nursemaid turned, startled, and saw the strange queen-like woman standing there. She recognized her instantly, for the Snow Queen had not aged a day in all the years since Gerda had seen her. She cried out for her to be gone in the name of God, and the Snow Queen, unable to disobey such an order, was forced to flee once again to her icy lair. But it was too late, for just before Gerda had turned at the child's cry, the vengeful Snow Queen had driven the icy glass shard into the infant's heart._

_Gerda and Kai brought the baby to the queen and king at once, weeping and begging for their forgiveness. The two monarchs granted it immediately, but they feared for their infant daughter, whose hair had turned white and eyes an icy blue. A truly pure heart would not have been affected by such wickedness in the slightest, and there are few hearts purer than that of a newborn infant, but a curse of the Devil even more ancient still lay on the unchristened child, and so the icy shard remained buried within her. To prevent her from becoming cold and uncaring, as Kai had himself so many years before, the king and queen hastened the girl's baptism, and so it was that while the shard's magic remained a part of her, the greater evil of the curse had no hold over her, and her heart remained kind and good. Kai, Gerda and the bishop vowed, along with the King and Queen, to never tell the child of the true origin of her powers._

_But the Snow Queen was not through. Ages upon ages she had waited- waited to finish a plan that had begun countless centuries before, and was determined that it should continue, christening or no. And so it was that she appeared in the northern country's neighbor, an island kingdom to the south, and asked for an audience with the king._

_The king was a harsh man, almost as cruel as the Snow Queen herself, and so when she offered him two shards, one for him and one for his firstborn when the boy came of age, he gratefully accepted. These shards, however, were not of the same sort as the icy shard with which she had pierced the princess. They shone not as jagged ice, but instead glowed as burning embers. The king accepted, and drove into himself the first and largest of the shards. The smaller he placed in a little wooden box, which he hid in his room, to save for his eldest son's twenty-first birthday._

_But his plan did not go as expected, for of the thirteen princes of the kingdom, the oldest would not be the one to receive the cursed powers. Instead, it was the youngest who found the box before its time._

_The boy had meant no harm, for he was lonely and had only wanted someone to play with him. At seven years old, he was the youngest of all thirteen of the king's children, and often ignored. He'd gone into his father's room to look for his oldest brother, whom he idolized even though the man of twenty had little time for him, and instead found a small chest full of many treasures. Among these treasures was a surprisingly ordinary little wooden box._

_He'd opened the box, curious, and stared at the glowing, ember-like glass shard. Even as the king walked into the room, the boy had pulled the shard out of the box._

_The king screamed in fury, and the boy, startled, jumped up and clutched at his chest, accidentally driving the fiery shard deep into his heart. His brown hair turned deep red, as red as coals, and his heart felt as if it were aflame. The king tried to pull the demon glass out, but the damage was already done. The boy was cursed._

_The king's hatred, fueled by his own burning shard, turned itself upon the boy, and soon all the court followed suit—especially the eldest brother, who was furious at having his birthright stolen away by the youngest of the brood. The king called to the Snow Queen, who upon arriving became furious that such an accident had occurred. Though she threatened to cover the Southern kingdom with ice, the king convinced her that not all was lost, and the Queen agreed to enchant the boy, to cause him to forget what had happened. Then, to ensure that his youngest son would not accidentally rediscover his powers, she fashioned for the king a special pair of gloves, imbued with her own magic, which could hold his magic at bay even for several hours after being worn. The king began to enforce that all the princes wear gloves at all times, as a matter of custom and fashion, and so the boy never did remember, and he never realized that he was different._

_Perhaps this would have all been alright, were it not for the hatred of everyone around him, for reasons he never understood. This hatred, along with the demon glass in his heart and the lack of any love from those who should have loved him the most, came to define who he was in every way. He became as bitter and angry as his father before him. Some would say he wanted only power and wealth, but in truth it went much deeper than that. He wanted to be appreciated, valued, honored- all those things with which people try to fill the hole left in their hearts by an absence of love. Perhaps more than anything, he wanted the respect and admiration he knew he would find as a king. When his father died and the eldest brother, still furious with the youngest, took the rule, the boy began to desperately search for a way to win a throne, any throne- in any way he could._

_When he first arrived in Arendelle six years later, by now twenty himself, the young man sought to marry the eligible queen. Instead, however, the younger princess, driven by loneliness and desperation, fell head over heels for his charms, and he willingly took advantage of such a fortunate situation. When it was revealed that the queen herself had powers of ice, he was stunned, for even then he did not remember his own hidden abilities. Hatred of the queen, of the beauty she could create (for as the Cross has shown, Heaven can use even the most evil of circumstances to bring about good), desperation for the crown, and jealousy of her loving sibling, a privilege he'd never known, all drove him to try to kill her—not just to take her throne, but to exact revenge for all the hatred with which he had ever been treated, for circumstances he had never understood._

_And yet, as always, love—pure, true love—defeated evil, and the prince was sent home again in chains, to face the revilement and disgust of his twelve older brothers. But a far greater damage had been done that day in Arendelle, For although neither Hans nor Elsa could have known it, as the two shards came into contact for the first time, and under such conditions, their powers had begun to flare and freeze all the more forcefully, and at last the Snow Queen's plan began to come to fruition._

_But I am getting ahead of myself, for our story starts many years before that point. Do not fret, children, for Good never has and never will be bested by Evil. Listen now, hush, and I will tell you a story—the story of how true love defeated the Snow Queen once and for all._

"_No, fear not, men,_

_For curses have no part,_

_Nor power over_

_The pure of heart._

_And love will triumph and ever reign!"_

* * *

**A/N: …Okay, so.**

**Some of you may remember this story from when I first posted it six years ago on this site. And, some of you might still be upset with me for removing it a few years back. In the words of my boyfriend, "Your feelings are valid." I know how frustrating it can be to see a favorite story go missing.**

**I want to apologize and offer a short explanation for why this story was removed, and why it is being re-uploaded now. At the time of its removal, I was suffering severely from my obsessive-compulsive disorder; as some of you may remember, I am a very devout Roman Catholic, and oftentimes religious people who suffer from OCD experience periods of what's called "scrupulosity"—essentially, believing perfectly normal actions are grave sins, or that minor moral faults are more serious than they are. Since fanfiction is not, technically, in line with copyright law, I became convinced that posting fanfiction was a major moral transgression, and took my pieces off the site. However, thankfully, I could never bear to discard them, and kept the original documents intact.**

**Recently, I went to the new **_**Frozen II**_** movie and was inspired to re-edit this and repost this story, as I remember some of my early fans really enjoying it. As I went back and reviewed the work, I found several issues with the original manuscript, but several really valuable moments as well. I have made some minor revisions and additions to the storyline, which I hope will pull the narrative together more cohesively and communicate a better view of forgiveness and reconciliation, which is one of the major themes of the story. I still don't think this story is my best work—there are several parts I would have liked to remove altogether, such as the inclusion of the songs, which I have nonetheless decided to leave in to maintain the original story beats—but if someone finds some enjoyment in the story, then that's all I hope to do.**

**To my new readers: this story takes place immediately after the events of the first **_**Frozen**_** movie, disregarding the sequel, and seeks to tie that story into the original **_**Snow Queen**_** tale, along with several other fairytales by Hans Christian Andersen. As such, it will have overtly Christian overtones, both due to Hans Christian Andersen's original story beats and, frankly, just due to my religious storytelling style. The story treats the events of **_**Frozen**_** as if they happened in a fictionalized but still very historically accurate version of our own world, and direct cultural references are made to Norwegian traditions and ways of life in the 1700-1800s. I hope you enjoy it. ****Please note that updates may take a while, as I am currently in grad school, which is a very time-consuming activity.**

**In short, **_**mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. **_**;) And I'm glad to be back. Happy advent, everyone, and once again:**

_**Pax et bonum!**_


	2. Prologue: Part II

**Prologue, Part II**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: My heart has been so warmed by all of your wonderful comments. Setsuna, Jacob Flores, Arachnerd, of course I remember**** you guys! It's great to be back.**

**Just as an explanation: the story will stay almost exactly the same; I'm not intending to add any major plot points, merely clean up/add some dialogue, fix plot holes and fix a few cringe-worthy moments from the original (lol). All of the original elements (including the songs, with a few edits) will remain, so have no fear.**

**I hope you all enojy it!**

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Hans sighed, bored. He'd read all the kids' books in the library twice already. He was sick of staying in his room, but his oldest three brothers were busy with "matters of state," whatever that meant, and the servants wouldn't want him underfoot. He wasn't silly enough to go to the King; he was always too busy for the youngest of the brood and somehow never happy to see him.

He got up off his bed and went and rummaged about in his toy chest. Toy soldiers, stuffed animals, blocks he hadn't used since he was three…

At last, he found it: the toy wooden sword he'd gotten for his birthday four months ago. He gasped, delighted, and quickly pulled it out. The boy swung the sword around experimentally for a few moments, before he realized it was no fun to play swords without a friend.

But, but, but! He had twelve big brothers! At least one of them would like to play with him, right? Sure, sometimes they could be pretty cold, and they didn't really talk to him much, but hey, he was still their brother. And there were a dozen of them; the odds were definitely with him!

Hans hurried out into the hall. "Brothers?" he called, knocking on the nearest door.

"_Do you wanna have a sword fight?_

_C'mon, I promise, it'd be fun!"_ He hurried to the next door.

"_We don't even have to play at all;_

_I just, y'know, wanna talk to someone."_

Nothing. He sighed, disappointed. _"None of you will even speak to me,_

_Like brothers should._

_I wish you would tell me why!_

_Do you wanna have a sword fight?_

_Just one tiny little sword fight?"_

"Go away, Hans!" several of them groaned at once.

He ducked his head, pouting. _"Okay, bye,"_ he said quietly, and walked away.

* * *

"Mama? Why don't my brothers like me?"

The Queen smiled fondly, playing with his red curls of hair. "Why do you think they don't like you?"

"They ignore me, and sometimes they're mean to me…I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it."

She sighed, and to Hans the sigh sounded rather sad. "Sometimes people are cruel to us just because they want to be, Hans; not because we did anything wrong. Your brothers may never be kind to you, but you can always be kind to them." She kissed his forehead. "And I promise you that no matter what, I will always love you."

Hans's face split into a wide, toothy grin, and he threw his arms around her neck. "I love you too, Mama!"

* * *

Eventually the boy began to grow up. The good Queen passed, leaving him at the mercy of his father and brothers. As he got older, the rest of his family only became colder and less likely to pay him any mind. At one point, several of his brothers even began to pretend he was invisible. Not just forgetting about him, neglecting him; they actually refused to acknowledge his existence when he spoke to them. What began as a spiteful joke soon became a matter of course about the castle, and he found—to very little surprise—that his brothers' disinterest towards him had extended into deliberate animosity.

This was never more apparent than the day when a thirteen-year-old Hans hurried up through the halls, the scabbard buckled to his waist swinging slightly as he knocked on the nearest door.

"_Do you wanna have a sword fight?_

_My tutor says I'm getting good!"_ he promised.

"_Or just have a conversation, y'know,"_ he muttered, turning his back to the door.

"_I promise, it wouldn't kill you if you would."_

No reply.

_"This is getting sort of old now,"_ he called over his shoulder.

"_This whole 'ignoring' thing._

_You realize two years have gone by?"_

No answer. He sighed and rolled his eyes, walking away.

* * *

Time passed. The king died, and Agnar, the eldest of the thirteen, was crowned. A letter eventually landed on his desk requesting his or his ambassador's presence at the coronation of the new Arendellian Queen. King Agnar didn't plan to go, but he didn't want to jeopardize the newly-pacified relations with the northern nation, their former enemy at war, so he passed the task down to the next oldest, Balthazar, who passed it on to the next, and each handed it down in turn until it landed on Hans's relatively empty to-do list.

He immediately saw it as an opportunity. Both Arendellian princesses were said to be beautiful, of marriageable age and—this was the enticing part—the lone heirs to their throne and all that it entailed. So he graciously accepted the invitation and readied to sail for Arendelle.

"See you in a few weeks," one of his brothers jeered as he walked through the front courtyard, heading to leave.

"Not if I can help it," Hans muttered under his breath.

Everything had been going so perfectly. He could even now picture Anna giggling as he brushed her cheek, she accepting his proposal. Even with Elsa's little disruption, he'd managed to play it off. But then, his fatal mistake.

He'd raised the sword high, so filled with rage, so certain that his plan would work, he would be king, and finally, _finally _he would be admired, respected…

But Anna…Anna's hand had shattered his blade and pushed him away from her beloved sister. Love had destroyed his perfect plan. Love.

Even he couldn't miss the irony in that.

Back to the Southern Isles he'd sailed in chains. The guards had shoved him forward before his twelve brothers as they sat around him in judgment.

"It is the unanimous decision of this council," Agnar said, voice cold and cruel, "that, in retribution for the crimes he has committed, including attempted regicide, endangerment of the Southern Aisles, shaming the royal family and putting the country at risk of war against Arendelle, the punishment…"

Hans held his breath, face pale.

"…Is death."

The breath he'd been holding escaped him in a silent gasp, stunned. The guards took him by the arms and hauled him out of the room before he could say a word. The last thing he saw was all twelve of his brothers glaring down at him, some smirking, some sneering, but all with that same harsh contempt in their eyes that made him realize that after all these years, nothing, absolutely _nothing,_ had changed.

* * *

Now here he was, sitting in a cold, small cell, still dressed in the clothes he'd worn when he left Arendelle. There was only a thin blanket on the wooden bench on which he sat, no mattress, and nothing but a bucket of icy water that served to wash down the meager food he was brought twice a day. He could understand why his brothers wouldn't want to waste "valuable resources" on him; after all, he was and always had been worthless in their eyes, and besides, why bother caring for a man condemned to death?

He looked up, startled, when he thought he heard a slight nose, and stood, walking over to the door. "Hello?" he said, voice hoarse.

Nothing. He stared at the door, and then sighed. "_I know there's no one out there._

_Don't see why I'm so surprised,"_ he said bitterly.

"_I wonder how long you've waited for this._

_The perfect chance _

_To arrange for my demise."_ He turned to lean his back against the cold iron door.

"_It seems I'm all alone now._

_S'pose I always was._

_What am I going to do?"_ He slid down the door until he was sitting down on the ground, legs curled up to preserve warmth. Silence filled the small cell, and he shook, perhaps more from fear than chill, swallowing hard.

"_Do you want to have a sword fight?"_

He waited, clinging, irrationally, to this last thread of hope. Then, he sighed lowly, leaned his head against the back of the door, and closed his eyes.

And, as always, no one answered.

* * *

**A/N: Not every chapter will have a song, don't worry. To my new readers, please review and tell me what you thought; to my old readers, thank you again for all your support. I won't be able to upload the whole story at once, as even though I've done the major edits I still want to go through each chapter individually before re-posting it. You should be seeing a chapter or couple of chapters every few days.**

**Pax et bonum!**


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

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It was not often that the Southern Isles became so bitterly cold. Though harsh winters were well known to all the Nordic countries, the maritime kingdom was not as frigid as its northern neighbors, nor did winter strike so fast or so soon in the Isles as it did in, say, Arendelle. Thus it was that when, in only mid-October a year following what had come to be known as "The Great Freeze," a cold, fierce wind blew through streets of the royal city, those unfortunate enough to be outside (mainly the homeless, and there were many of them, ragged, haggard men and women with faces older than their ages and a gnawing hunger in their bellies) pulled their hands in close against the biting chill and wondered at the sudden cold.

The icy wind, carrying with it many snowflakes, swirled around the royal castle of the Southern Isles, before concentrating in one area on a large, sea-facing balcony near the topmost floor. The winds swirled and the snow settled, preceding the arrival of a grand sleigh from the sky. The sleigh was pulled by two great white horses and made of hard, sharp ice as clear as glass, and the woman who rode it was as barbarically beautiful, in her sharp, sheer way, as her mode of transportation. Her face was deathly pale, white as winter snow, as was her hair. Even her lips held no red flush to them, and her eyes were an arctic, frozen blue. Her icy gray-blue dress swirled around her, clinging to her form until it flared out and trailed behind her, and she wore a thick cape made of countless tiny white snowflakes, though she had no need of it. Atop her head sat a great crown made of clear icicles. Yet none of this grandeur appeared lovely in the slightest; rather, it gave her the appearance of being ruthless, cold and unforgiving, all of which she was. Her expression was as icy as her attire.

The other lone soul on the balcony gave a short, formal bow, for while both were proud, he at least had the good sense to know he was the less powerful monarch—for now, in any case. The Snow Queen inclined her head in turn, but did not condescend to bow to him. "You summoned me," she stated. It was not a question.

"I did."

"It has been many years since we last met, Agnar, King of the Southern Isles."

"Not since my father sat on the throne."

"Indeed." She strode away from the sleigh. "And to what end have I been called?"

He paused a moment before answering. "As you well know, my country and the kingdom of Arendelle have been an in…uneasy truce, for nigh on a quarter of a century."

"I know all that goes on within this world. I see all. What of this?"

"I was under the impression you had interests in Arendelle, what with your hand in the Queen's particular abilities. And was it not one of your lands, before it was conquered by your Enemy?"

This was an incendiary statement. The Snow Queen momentarily lost her regal composure and ground her teeth. "For centuries, the people of the Northern Lands worshipped me as a deity. They revered me! They believed me to be Skaði, a goddess of the winter! All this, my master gave to me. But then the Enemy sent His men among the people and destroyed my reign. They do not believe any longer." Her rant sent frost flickering over the stone floor. "The Enemy gave them power over me—over _me!_ And with a prayerful word they can banish me away." She looked as if she longed to strike something, but could find nothing suitable to break. "It is unfair. All these long years, I have waited to punish them—I have taken their children, I have enchanted their minds, I have had my little revenges. But it is not enough. It will _never_ be enough!"

"Then you and I have common goals," Agnar replied smoothly. "Arendelle could and rightfully should be mine. I would take its land and resources as my own."

"Did not already another royal of the Southern Isles attempt to take rule over the Northern Lands?" the Snow Queen asked skeptically. "In fact, I believe it was the very boy who intruded on my work who did the deed."

Agnar rolled his eyes. "Hans is a halfwit with petty ambitions. He's awaiting execution in the dungeons right now. He only wanted the throne; he never would have known what to do with the power once he'd gotten it!" He calmed himself. "I want to make a deal with you."

"Oh?" This interested her. "What sort of deal?"

"I know your quest. How many shards have you yet to recover, until the mirror is complete?"

"Five," she answered curtly. "Two of which I myself handed over."

"Why?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You know as well as I that the mirror shards are attracted to each other. Everywhere your brother or the Queen goes, they increase my chances of coming across them."

Agnar nodded. "And what will you do when all the shards have been collected?"

"Then the mirror's power will be complete. My master will give me full dominion over the world. All the earth shall be encased in ice." She smiled coldly. "And I will spare only those who worship me once again."

"Here is my proposition," said the king. "I want to conquer Arendelle. You hold the secret to their Queen's power. I would have similar power, with which I could destroy her and establish my own rule. No man would dare to challenge me after that."

The Snow Queen regarded him coolly. "And if I should give you that precious power, King Agnar? What will be _my_ gain?"

"When I am king of Arendelle, I shall drive all their holy men from their country—and from my own. Furthermore, I will give you free rein over my citizens, to break them as you will. They will worship you as a goddess once again."

The Snow Queen pondered this. Oh, how she longed for that worship! To be revered and bowed down to! To see the mortals cower beneath her like insects, begging, _praying_ for mercy from her terrible ice and winds! The deal was too sweet to resist. "You will have your power," she decided. "But not immediately."

His face clouded. "And why not?"

"There are shrewder ways to accomplish your goals, King Agnar. Allow me to lead you in this endeavor, and you will be the victor. This I promise you."

"And how would I be victorious if you do not give me full authority from the start?" he demanded.

"Subtlety will be our aid. You know the power your youngest brother possesses?"

He ground his teeth. "That thieving, worthless runt is no _brother_ of mine."

"Nevertheless, he does hold great power, though he does not know it. If he finds out, he will be able to destroy whomever he wishes—that is, unless the person he desires to destroy is of equal ability."

Agnar began to see where this was leading. "You mean the Arendellian Queen."

"She, like your brother, ought to have had her heart changed by the shard—but she is still intact, due to the Enemy's authority." The Snow Queen's lip curled. "But no matter; it will serve us just as well. Here is what I suggest: the more shards that congregate in one place, the greater pull they exact on any lone shard within close enough proximity. I have heard tale that the young Arendellian princess is very soon to be wed; has your family received an invitation to the ceremony?"

"We have—with notable exceptions."

The snow queen smiled. "This is ideal. Bring your brother to the wedding. This will put him and the Queen in close contact for an extended period of time. Since dignitaries from nearly all the neighboring countries will be present, your brother's constant contact with the Queen and their...distaste...for one another will increase the power of their own shards, and cause them to draw the rest to them."

"If their power will be increased, won't Hans be more likely to discover his own abilities?" Agnar said doubtfully. "It was well enough when we were children and you could make him forget, but a public display will not be easy to cover up. And even your magic gloves cannot restrain him when he is desperate."

"That is exactly what I plan to happen. If and when his powers do resurface, we want him to direct them at someone of equal ability- that is, the Queen. Force the two to be at odds with each other. Make their bitterness, especially any he may harbor towards you, be redirected at each other. In the end, once they have drawn the other shards to Arendelle, they will destroy each other and I can retrieve their pieces of the mirror."

"How would I increase this bitterness?"

She chuckled lowly. "There is nothing anyone detests more than being compelled to work with those they hate. Force their hands; tell your brother to marry the Queen."

"Hans may agree, but she never will," Agnar pointed out.

"Your brother will want the throne so much that he will do whatever it takes to ensure the success of his aims, including attempting to woo her. Hopefully she'll see right through his act and resent him all the more for it. This will drive a wedge between them so deep, neither will have any option but to hate each other—more, even, than they already do. In time, your brother's powers will reveal themselves in his fury, and then you will be allowed to sit back as they annihilate each other for you and leave you a clear path to the crown."

"And if the Queen makes trouble?" Agnar said doubtfully. "She could easily dismiss the proposal altogether."

"Then I will exercise…more dramatic measures."

Agnar in turn considered his end of the deal, and how he was to go about it. He cared little who or what the people in his kingdom worshiped; he wanted Arendelle, and if the Snow Queen could give it to him, he would take it happily. "I agree to your terms."

"And I to yours." She removed from the inside of the cloak a small silver box, ornately decorated with wrought silver snowflakes. "I had predicted this, and brought this with me. You must not use its power until I instruct you, or all could be lost."

He took the silver box and opened it. From within glowed a fiery, burning light, casting his face in sharp relief, and he smiled joylessly. "…A difficult temptation, but I will manage it."

"Very good, King Agnar. And what have I now, to guarantee that you'll keep up _your_ end of the bargain?"

Agnar considered this. "I have no magic to give you."

"No. But you do have one thing of great value, to both me and my master."

"And what is that?"

She smiled coldly. With a wave of her hand, ice grew from the floor into a podium, upon which lay a contract-like document, made of frozen white ice crystals. Another wave conjured up a pen of snowflakes and ink made of black ice-water.

"_The time has come to swear a pledge,"_ said the Snow Queen.

"_Sign on the dotted line._

_Just put the paper to the pen's edge,_

_Sign on the dotted line._

_Power's cost is rather low;_

_Just an IOU for your soul._

_For every crime there is a fine,_

_So sign on the dotted line!"_

"**Your fee is fair and small as well,**

**To destroy the Queen my soul I'll sell,"** Agnar swore, his only thought that of victory.

"**I'll crush her rule with my own hand,**

**And with your help I'll seize her lands.**

**Make the contract-"**

"_Pay the fee."_

"**You'll get no complaint from me."**

_"Let your goal and mine align,_

_Just sign on the dotted line."_

"**With your help I'll pave the way**

**For the rule of a new day!" **Agnar picked up the pen and dipped it into the glass-like inkwell. He traced his signature on the white paper.

"_Soon their lives will all be mine!"_ the Snow Queen said, eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction as the pen formed each letter.

"_Just sign on the dotted line!"_

The contract disappeared into thin air. She smiled, a smile so cold and cruel that it would have made blood freeze in the veins. "Welcome to the business, o Agnar, King of the Southern Isles."

He smiled back, his as full of a burning fury as hers was of ice. "I am welcomed indeed."

* * *

**A/N: In case this chapter wasn't clear, when two or more characters of opposing genders are singing, the bolded lines will be male and the italicized lines will be female. Lines that are both bolded and italicized are shared.**


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Winter was coming; she could taste it on the air.

True, it was only late October, but in Arendelle, October was the month in which winter truly began. Which was just fine for Elsa, who of course loved the crisp coolness of the frigid mornings and the great, wide silence of frozen nights. More to the point, their largest exports—mainly lumber and ice, which were just above fishing—were unaffected by the cold. While Anna favored summer, with its warm breezes and sunny skies, the elder sister never felt so open and free as when she saw the first snowfall of the season.

More than a year had passed since the Great Freeze, two Julys ago, and the townsfolk had come to accept their...somewhat unusual queen. Elsa had quickly proven herself a capable ruler, and within the first year and a half of her reign had shown that she was a queen of both wisdom and compassion, never too soft to be bullied by her advisors, but never so proud as to not accept their advice.

One such advisor was with her now, helping her go over totals and tallies and a dozen other things that made being a queen so tedious. Elsa let out a low sigh, stretching her aching fingers, and Bishop Willum glanced up from his place across the pair of desks. "It's an awful lot of paperwork, isn't it?" the kindly clergyman said sympathetically.

"It is. Thank you for your help, Willum." The bishop had been a good friend to the crown for as long as Elsa could remember. He'd also been one of the few people who'd know about her powers prior to her coronation, and, as the royal confessor, one of the even fewer with whom she'd been able to speak about them openly. "I do feel bad, you know, about making you come here to work with me…"

"Nonsense; I volunteered, didn't I? And I'm sure it must be an awful lot of effort, trying to run a whole kingdom."

"It is, but you already have all your own work to deal with from the diocese, and-" She sighed. "I'm sorry," she said again ruefully. "It's only that, as much as I love Anna, she isn't very practiced at this sort of thing."

"Stop apologizing; I'm happy to help."

"Mark my words, one of these days, I'm going to get myself an assistant," she said resolutely. "And then you can go back to doing your job instead of mine."

Willum smiled, stood, and tapped the edge of his papers smartly against the desk, lining them up evenly. "I'm always available, your Majesty. Except for right now," he said, just as the cuckoo clock in the study opened its little doors for the miniature bird to pop out and chirp the time, which at the moment was fifteen to one in the afternoon. "I'm afraid I'll have to run, my dear; do forgive me."

"Of course; go ahead. I'm sorry to have kept you so long."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Apologizing again? We'll work that bad habit out of you someday, your Majesty. Until then, _vale, regina mea."_ He left, taking his own stack of papers with him as he did so.

Elsa sighed and leaned back in her chair, finally contented. She'd gotten all her work done for the day as fast as she could, and now had the greater part of the afternoon available to spend with Anna, Kristoff, Sven and Olaf. The five had all become very close- especially, she noted with a little smile, Anna and Kristoff. The princess and the mountain man were deeply in love, a fact that had been made public by Anna's acceptance of Kristoff's somewhat awkward but entirely adorable proposal. Their wedding was set for a few days before Christmas, and there was always something to be done for it.

She hurried through the halls as she thought all this, so quickly that she nearly ran right over Olaf. "Heya, Elsa!" the snowman said in his usual bubbly fashion, dodging around her legs.

"Oh! Olaf, I'm sorry," she said, laughing. "I didn't see you there!"

"Oh, that's okay. Where you goin', huh?"

"To find Anna and Kristoff. I don't suppose you could tell me where they are?"

Olaf grinned widely. "Sure! They're in the ballroom. I think Anna's teaching Kristoff how to dance."

"Let's go see if we can't help them, hm?" she suggested, and Olaf agreed happily, leading her by his little stick hand to the ballroom, as if he believed she couldn't quite find her way on her own.

Olaf had been right; Kristoff and Anna were exactly where he'd said they'd be, which was in the main ballroom. Anna was trying to teach Kristoff how to dance while the tutor counted off in a monotonous rhythmic tone, _"One_ two three, _one _two three, _one_ two three…"

Kristoff had obviously gotten off the beat and was leading Anna the wrong way. "No, no, no!" the tutor said as he stopped his counting, obviously frustrated. "See here, you're supposed to turn her after _three_ steps, not five. Let's try this again. _One_ two three, _one-"_

"Ahem," Elsa cleared her throat, and the tutor looked over.

"Ah, your Majesty! Come to oversee our progress?" He cast a despairing glance at Kristoff. "I'm afraid there has been very little since the last lesson. This man has two left feet," he muttered under his breath.

Elsa suppressed a smile at the way Kristoff rolled his eyes. "No, Mr. Johansen; I actually came to shorten the lesson today. I'm afraid Princess Anna and Sir Bjorgman have some official business to attend to."

The man's eyes lit up with the prospect of being able to leave the fruitless situation. "Oh yes, your Majesty, right away!" He wasted no time in leaving the room, nearly running for the door.

Kristoff let out a sigh as the door closed. "Thank you," he said with obvious relief. "I think I was about to lose my mind. Can a royal suitor make any official decrees?"

"Not yet; why?" Anna said with a little giggle.

"I was going to make it illegal to count up to three without adding a _four_ afterwards."

All three laughed at that, and Elsa admitted, "I think he was at least as anxious for the lesson to be done as you were, Kristoff."

"So," Anna said, hopping over. "What is this 'official business' we need to attend to?"

"Military strategy," Elsa said, straight-faced. Anna's own expression deflated, and the older sister smiled. "In matters regarding snow-related warfare."

Anna's eyes lit up again, and she gasped, smiling. Elsa laughed and threw her arms out. In an instant, the whole ballroom was covered in snow, which piled in drifts on the floor as ice crept up the walls.

Elsa was the first to get a shot in; she conjured a snowball and threw it at Anna. The fluffy white flakes knocked her sister over, and Anna sat up, sputtering and red-faced. "N-not fair!" she said, chattering. "I w-wasn't ready!"

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes! I mean no! I mean-"

The snowball war erupted from there, with Elsa and Olaf on one side and Anna and Kristoff on the other. "This- may not- have been- such- a good- idea," Kristoff panted, lobbing snowballs over their snow fort.

"Oh, hush! This is the most fun I've had in _fblubhsbshhh!"_ Anna collapsed on the snow beside him, her face full of fluffy white powder. Kristoff could hear whooping cheers from the other side of the ballroom and a faint call of, _"Way to go, Elsa!"_

"Uff!" Anna said, brushing the snow out of her eyes. "Why that little-"

"Hold on there, feisty-pants, you missed some," Kristoff teased.

"Huh? Where?"

Her baffled face was just so adorable Kristoff couldn't help but grin as he bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Right there," he chuckled.

Anna smiled, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and for a moment he completely forgot where he was and he was doing, transfixed by her blue-green eyes.

At least, until his fiancé shoved a handful of snow in his face. "Hey! Hey! I'm on your team!" he laughed.

"I'm going to get that stinker back," Anna vowed, sitting up. "Just see if I won't!"

"Take it eas-" He grinned and shook his head as she dashed out of view. "Why do I even bother?" he said, shaking his head.

On the other side of the ballroom, Elsa and Olaf were planning a defense attack. "You can bet she'll be coming around to get me now," Elsa said, drawing a little diagram in the snow with X's for the "enemy" and O's for her and Olaf. "But trust me, Kristoff will be watching her."

"He's soft," Olaf agreed.

"Exactly. So the minute his fluffy blond head pops over that snow wall, you snowball him to smithereens. Got it?"

"Got it!" Olaf agreed stoutly. Elsa snuck out from behind their snow fort and out into the open.

She looked around, confused. Anna was nowhere to be seen. All seemed silent among the drifts of snow; even Kristoff wasn't making any noises from his side of the ballroom. She turned around to look at Olaf, who was peeking over the top of their fort. The snowman shrugged, and then his eyes went wide.

_SPLAT!_

Elsa whirled around, surprised. Anna was laughing. With a grin, the queen conjured up a much _larger_ snowball above her head. Anna gasped, somewhere between awe and fear, and turned on her heel, trying to run back over to her side of the ballroom, laughing. Elsa giggled and chased after her.

The princess didn't make it six paces before she was completely floored by the snowball. When she sat up again, the Queen was laughing so hard she actually fell over, clutching her stomach. "Y-your face!" Elsa stammered, as the faux-angry Anna stood up and stalked over to her. "You sh-should have seen your f-face!"

The younger sister couldn't keep the annoyed look on her face for long. "Oh, hush, you!" She helped Elsa to her feet. The two grinned at each other.

"I'm so glad," Elsa said with a smile, "that you enjoy this."

"Enjoy it? I love it! And I'm really happy, too. Happier than ever," Anna agreed. _"Because for the first time in forever-"_

_"I let you in, I let you see,"_ Elsa agreed.

_"I've gotten all that I've dreamed off."_

_"You've helped me become who I'm supposed to be."_

_"Together, we changed our lonely world."_

_"It's real!"_

_"And taught each other how to love."_

_"It's real, it's true, and now I know!"_

_"No matter what happens tomorrow,"_ they said together, clasping hands,

_"I'm grateful for today!_

_Because for the first time in forever-_

_For the first time in forever!_

_My sister's here to stay."_

The two laughed and embraced each other. Elsa was just about to speak when the ballroom doors suddenly opened, and she heard a voice call out, "Your Majesty!"

She jumped, startled, and turned around. Kai was standing in the doorway. She smoothed the skirt of her navy dress and cleared her throat. "Er, yes, Kai?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Madame, but we've received a foreign correspondence." She didn't know why he looked so nervous, but look it he did.

"Alright, well, start my pile for tomorrow then; I'll peruse it this evening." She turned back to her sister.

"Your Majesty– Queen Elsa." That got her attention; Kai rarely, if ever, used her first name during working hours. Even when she'd been only princess regent, he'd always addressed her by her title in matters of state. "This is something you may want to look into immediately."

Elsa hesitated and glanced back at the others. Anna gave her a quick nod, letting her know it was okay, and so the queen walked over to Kai. The two exited the ballroom. As she closed the door behind her, he handed her a letter, biting his lip hard.

Elsa looked down and suddenly realized why. The stamp contained a sword and two stars on either side, pressed into the scarlet wax—the seal of the Southern Isles. "Have you read it?" she said, looking over to Kai.

"The seal is unbroken, your Majesty," he pointed out gently. "So no. I have not."

Right. Of course he wouldn't have, and if he had the wax would have been broken. Just the mention of that place and she found she wasn't thinking clearly. Elsa took a deep, steadying breath and opened the envelope.

What followed was perhaps one of the most unsettling letters she'd ever read, at least since becoming queen.

_To Her Royal Highness, Queen Elsa of Arendelle,_

_Greetings from King Agnar, sovereign of the Southern Isles. If it does please your Majesty, I am writing to inquire if my representatives and myself would be permitted to arrive early for the celebration of the nuptials of Her Highness, Princess Ana, in order to discuss what I believe would be a mutually beneficial political negotiation. If agreed to, I believe this arrangement could bring greater prosperity and friendship between our two kingdoms, which as you know entered into a peace treaty twenty-five years ago. Said treaty must be renewed before the end of the year, as per the terms of the agreement._

_I would explain further; however, I do not feel that the details of such a negotiation could or should be detailed in something as hazardous as a letter, which as you know could easily fall into the wrong hands and be read by the wrong eyes. I implore you to return a swift reply, for the sake of both kingdoms._

_His Royal Majesty, King Agnar of the Southern Isles_

She closed the letter, mind whirling. What could possibly be so secretive that the king wouldn't wish to include it in a letter? But he had a point; nearly a quarter of a century had passed since the imposition of peace between the two kingdoms, and the events from the previous year's summer had already strained that relationship enough. She didn't want to put that peace in further jeopardy.

She turned to Kai, breathing out through her nose. "Get me some paper and a quill."

* * *

A fierce wind sprinkled with snowflakes blew outside the cell, and the prince pulled his arms in closer, shivering.

Hans didn't know why he was still alive, for he knew he should have been hung at least two weeks previous. His execution date had been set for the end of September; it was now nearing late October. He also knew that if there had been a stay of execution, it wasn't an issue of legality, but then that eliminated the only possible explanation he could think of.

It had gotten bitterly cold as winter set in, frosting the Scandinavian country over with snow and ice. It was nowhere near as cold as Hans remembered Arendelle to be during the Queen's little _fiasco_ a year and a half ago, but it was cold enough, and back then his clothes had been new and well-cared for. He no longer had the white tailcoat, but his old wool winter coat was growing thin, not to mention filthy and spattered with burgundy. That special pattern was courtesy of any number of his elder siblings, who had many "frustrations" and had always enjoyed "venting" them on their younger brother. The leather gloves had long since faded into a off-white, and although they were now thin, they were at least free of holes, and Hans still wore them, both out of lifelong habit as well as a hope they would at least in part cut the chill that seeped through the stones and the glass over the barred window.

A year and a half. That was how long he'd been rotting in this cell. Although he'd been sentenced to death practically the day he'd returned to the Southern Isles, there were too many technicalities about executing a prince (well, _former_ prince, now) for the deed to be done right away, prompting his brothers to hire countless lawyers to go through the old law books to make sure every loophole was buttoned shut and legions of propagandists to ensure the tale of his ill-fated plan to take over Arendelle had reached every Southern ear, stirring up the desires of a wary populace to see the useless prince dead. That Arendelle and the Southern Isles had a fraught relationship was decades-old news. That, in fact, had been part of the appeal: the peace treaty had effectively removed Arendelle—with its timber-rich forests and fjords teeming with fish—from the Southern Isles' (and thus his brothers') potential rule, so that one of Hans's daydreams in those old days had been seeing the looks on his brothers' faces when _he_ swiped the Arendellian crown away right under their noses.

Failed engagements aside, his father's short and ill-fated attempt at invasion had damaged relations with Arendelle, even after all these years. As such, an attempted assassination by a foreign royal _could_ be seen as an act of war. But an attempted assassination by a prince denounced by his entire country? Well now, those were merely the actions of a radical idiot. No danger in that.

Hans only knew any of this from the scornful reports of his brothers, interspersed here and there between "ventings" and mockery. He, meanwhile, had devoted his time in the cell to eating, sleeping, and growing an unkempt beard, not to mention keeping himself sane–

_No. Don't think about it._ That was the only rule of the cell, the one he imposed on himself. _Don't put yourself through that again._

–and all in all just trying to keep his own heart beating. Spending the last winter exposed to the chill had left him weakened by illness and maltreatment, but Hans had done his best to maintain his health despite the circumstances _After all, _he mused to himself, _it wouldn't do for them to come down here one day to bring me to the gallows and find my corpse grinning up at them from the ground, now would it?_

But why the delay? After all their efforts to placate the public and ensure the execution would go over smoothly, were his brothers really going to allow the last few days of fall to slip by into another winter, when an execution would garner much less of a public showing? And oh, there _would_ _be_ a public showing, his brothers had sneered time and time again. Hans wasn't surprised; after all, what use was a public denunciation without a public? But now, they seemed to be putting it off. To what end? Hans would've demanded an explanation if there were anyone to listen to him but the walls.

Well, he was soon to have his explanation, for when the cell door opened again for the first time in weeks, Hans was startled but somehow not surprised to see the identity of his new visitor. King Agnar, the eldest of his brothers and by far his least favorite, walked in, a look of satisfaction on his face and a letter in his hand. "Get up," he ordered.

Hans rolled his eyes but did as told, standing up from the wooden bench. The chains attached to the cuff around his leg rattled as he did so. He tried to force himself not to limp on his twisted ankle, but it wasn't much use. He knew he looked worse for wear, and could imagine (although he hadn't glanced in a mirror for who knew how long) how he must have appeared to his brother and sovereign: the matted tangles of hair and beard, the faded bloodspots and the grime would have been enough to mar his appearance, even without the recently acquired black eye and split lip. "So," he said sarcastically. "Finally built that scaffolding yet? What took you so long?"

Agnar struck him upside the head with his fist. Hans winced and glared back up at him, but he didn't dare to raise a hand to the new bruise that was forming on the side of his face. "Have some respect for your king," Agnar ordered. "And as to your execution, it's been… suspended."

"Oh? Why so?" he said, feigning disinterest.

"Because you have not yet outlived your usefulness." He waved the letter slightly. "The Arendellian Queen has given permission for 'the princes of the Southern Isles' to enter the country as representatives, and one of those representatives is going to be you."

Hans stared, and then broke out laughing—a hoarse, sickly sound that quickly developed into a cough. "And what," he managed to say, when he'd suppressed the cough, "Do you expect she'll do when I come waltzing up to the palace gates? She'll turn me into an ice statue and throw my frozen body in the fjords. Come now, Agnar; I thought you were smarter than that." He deliberately left out the "king," which Agnar noted and abrputly raised his hand. Hans, to his embarrassment, flinched.

Agnar eyed him coolly, and then lowered his hand, apparently satisfied. "She'll desist once she's heard what I have to say."

"And what exactly could that be?"

"That you are proposing marriage."

Hans stared. "Pardon?"

"You wish to have the Queen's hand in marriage."

"Oh, so I heard that right," he said, raising an eyebrow sardonically. "And I don't suppose you'll care to tell me how or why I should do this?"

"You'll do it because I want Arendelle under my control, and you want to live."

Hans laughed again. "And how do you propose I go about, ahem, _proposing?_ She's hardly my biggest fan."

"You manipulated her idiot sister into falling for you, didn't you?"

"All the more reason for her to spear me through with an icicle. I'm not interested, Agnar. Recruit one of the others."

He made to turn away, but before he could, Agnar caught him by the shoulder, whirled him around and slammed him against the nearest wall—by the throat, no less. The sons of the Southern Isles came in all sizes, and although Hans was not ordinarily a thin man, malnutrition and the fact that Agnar was a mountain of a man meant that just now, the elder brother only needed one hand.

"Hans, I want you to listen very carefully," Agnar said, voice silkily smooth. His brother rasped for air. "Our peace treaty with Arendelle is about to expire. This has gotten me in a rather _pensive_ mood." His hand tightened, and Hans wheezed. "I want Arendelle, and I will have it—be it through your marriage or more…extreme measures. So if you want to prolong your pathetic, worthless life, I suggest you _find a way _to charm the Queen, or that noose will have seemed an easy death to you. Do I make myself clear?"

Hans scrabbled weakly at the hand crushing his windpipe and nodded, face turning purple.

"Good." He released him, and Hans collapsed to his knees, coughing and massaging his neck. "Now, I suggest you get to what you do best: plotting." He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

After he'd gotten his breath back, Hans staggered back to the bench, where he slumped onto the wood again. For a while, he seethed at his brother. This had long been a common occurrence for him; he and his family had never really been on pleasant terms. To be fair, it would not be honest to say that his brothers had always been so abusive; before, they had merely hated him. As a convicted criminal, however, he had few legal protections, and as gas expanded to fill a vacuum, so did malice to fill the bounds of the law.

Eventually the rage eroded back into logic, and Hans began to think. …Marry the queen? Alright, so it would get him the throne he'd wanted before, but now that desire had long since passed—for reasons he did not want to think on nor worry about at the present moment. Besides, even _if_ he managed to do the impossible, he would still be under Agnar's thumb—and who was to say the king would even let him live after he and the Queen had wed? Agnar had certainly had no qualms about executing him before. And to be frank, Hans hated his brother, for a number of reasons. Living under the king's control was no life at all.

And so, the prince _did _begin to do what he did best—but not exactly in the way Agnar had planned.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked it! That's the last update for today; I know they're happening pretty quickly, but I'd like to get the whole story uploaded before Christmas. _Pax _**_**et bonum!**_


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

When the large wooden ship bearing the deep scarlet and white cross of the Southern Isles docked in the harbor, Elsa didn't go out to greet it. Instead, she waited patiently in the great hall, which served as both a ballroom and a throne room, hardly moving as she sat in her throne. Anna, on the other hand, was fidgeting nervously in her seat, and Kristoff—who was standing to the side and looking uncomfortable to be so dressed up for the occasion—spoke not a word.

When the doors finally opened, Elsa stood, as did Anna, as the ambassadors filed in. The king entered first, bearing a gold crown, and bowed politely. Elsa curtsied in response. The princes filed in behind him, each in silver crowns, and stood silently in polite expectation.

One man in particular stood out, and Elsa felt her blood freeze. As the princes bowed to her, she stepped off the small raised platform on which her throne stood and approached the king, anger burning in her eyes. "If this is a joke, your Highness, it isn't a very funny one," she said coldly—quite literally. The temperature was dropping by degrees.

"Is that-? No way," Anna said, voice raising several pitches as she bounded down the steps over to the youngest of the princes.

Hans didn't raise his head, not even as Anna exclaimed in shock and anger, "It _is_ you! How dare you! Why I oughtta-"

Whatever she "oughtta" have done, Kristoff beat her to it. He pulled her away abruptly and, before Hans could even look up in surprise, had punched him square in the jaw.

The prince stumbled backward and landed on his butt in a very undignified manner. "Kristoff!" Elsa said, aghast.

"You think that's bad, I'm just getting warmed up, you no-good-"

"Kristoff, enough!" the queen snapped, and the mountain man looked over at her, surprised. "Believe me, I know how tempting it is to bash his head in, but if you'd hold your temper I'd be much obliged."

"If we're taking sides, I'm on hers," Hans groaned, standing up and rubbing his jaw.

"You shut up," all three Arendellians snapped at the same time. Elsa turned to the king again. "King Agnar, you'd best have an absolutely _spectacular_ reason for this incredible breach of conduct!"

"That I do, your Majesty. But perhaps it would be best if we discussed this in a more appropriate setting for such negotiations?"

Although Elsa was impatient for an answer, she led the visiting royals to a conference room, taking her seat in the largest chair around the round conference table. Agnar took the one opposite, and the others seated themselves as well. "An explanation, if you please," Elsa said coldly.

"Naturally," Agnar said, face the epitome of tact and control. "As you know, your Majesty, our two kingdoms are fast approaching their twenty-fifth year in our peace treaty; by the first day of the new year it will need to be renewed."

"I am aware. What I fail to see is why such a matter required you to bring the youngest prince along with you." No one failed to notice how she did not call Hans by name, and said the words very frostily, at that. It was a wonder that she hadn't frozen over the conference table, but then a year's worth of practice and love had given her a previously unheard of measure of control.

"You see, your Majesty- and I ask you to hear me out before you reject the proposal- I believe there may be a better way to ensure peace between our nations than a simple treaty."

She raised an eyebrow. "Continue."

"In short, Queen Elsa, I believe it would be possible to establish a more robust peace and mutually beneficial relations via the intermarriage of our families. The princess's hand, of course, has been claimed," he nodded to Anna, whose eyes narrowed, "but your Majesty is, as I understand, still accepting suitors."

"And this required you to bring the youngest prince to Arendelle?"

The king gave a brief, cool smile. "The other princes by and large have…already contracted their own betrothals, and I would not presume to submit myself for your consideration, your Majesty, considering Arendelle's, ah, _high regard_ for the sovereignty of nations. Prince Hans is the most reasonable candidate for your hand."

The conference room was dead silent for about two seconds.

Then those two seconds passed, and Anna of all people leapt to her feet. "You have got to be kidding me!" she cried. "Did you really think you could just _waltz_ back in here and ask for my sister's hand?! Like that whole 'I think I'll kill both the heirs to the throne and become king myself' thing never _happened?!_ Why you pompous, egotistical, jerk-faced-"

"Anna," Elsa said sternly.

Her sister whirled around, still fuming. "What?!"

"Anna, please, take a seat."

Although the princess looked anything but obedient at the moment, she obliged and sat down. Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, and then opened them again. "I will consider your proposal and have an answer for you by tomorrow morning. I'm afraid I'll have no response for prior to then." Hans (who had wisely chosen to remain silent) looked up, surprised. Elsa stood. "Kai, please show the King and the princes to the guest wing…_all_ of them."

The manservant, who was standing near the door, nodded. "Yes, your Majesty." He beckoned to Agnar and the others. "Come with me, please." They filed out of the room in success, Hans the last to go. Elsa thought she saw his eyes flick to her- green, she noticed- before he brushed out the door without so much as a word.

As soon as the door closed, Anna jumped up again. "Elsa, you can't _seriously_ be thinking–"

"Of course I'm not. But it's bad tact to turn down a proposal for a political marriage so quickly."

"Tact? You're concerned about _tact?"_

"Whatever has happened, Anna, this is still a diplomatic situation and it is with diplomacy that I must respond," Elsa explained. "I will politely turn down the invitation tomorrow and then request that Hans be sent on his way." She saw the look on Anna's face and reassured her: "He _won't_ be here for the wedding."

Anna bit her lip, and then huffed, conceding. "Oh, alright. Just make sure they really get the message: you mean no."

"I promise, I will leave no room for negotiation."

"Good." Her face was still pink with anger. "I think I need some fresh air."

"That might be a good idea." Anna patted her sister's shoulder and then stalked out of the room, still obviously annoyed.

Kristoff watched her go, and then turned, looking rather disgruntled, back to Elsa. "Yeah, uh… I think I'll go feed Sven. Maybe it'll stop me from punching the walls… or maybe not."

She smiled wryly. "That makes two of us."

Elsa waited until Kristoff had left, as well, and she was alone in the room. She ran her fingers through her blond hair in frustration and undid the bun, letting down the braid. She sat down on one of the chairs with a sigh and rubbed her temples.

_What in the world just happened?_

* * *

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

She grimaced and rolled over, pulling the pillow around her ears with a groan. After a moment, she closed her eyes.

…_Tick._

With a sigh, she sat up. It was no use; the castle was too quiet at this time of night, and she knew well enough that if she didn't fall asleep earlier on, she'd be up until dawn. It seemed that this was doomed to be one of those nights. Her thoughts just wouldn't stop running—why the Southern king was really here, why he'd brought Hans along with, why in the _world_ he'd thought she'd ever say _yes_ to such a ridiculous idea…

Well, better to spend the evening reading in the library than alone in her room, driving herself crazy with questions she didn't have answers to. Elsa swung her legs over the side of her bed, shrugged on her blue dressing robe over her old white nightgown and headed out into the hallway. With a circular motion of her hands, she created a little sphere of glowing blue snowflakes, like a small blizzard, to light her way.

The library was two floors down and several hallways apart from her room, so Elsa made sure to be very quiet. When she arrived, the library appeared entirely deserted, which was to be expected at such a late hour. Blowing on the little orb in her hands, the miniature snowstorm of light flew to all the little wall scones in the room, casting the bookshelves in a flickering, wintry light. She passed her desk and headed to the old fiction section, a place she'd passed numerous hours as girl when she just couldn't stand the same four walls of her room anymore. Anna was hardly an "indoor" girl and had been even less so when she was a child, and Elsa had always been quite certain that, even on the off chance her sister wound wander into the palace library, she could easily conceal herself among the more academic bookcases.

She entered into the right row the third from the end and began to run her fingers along the old familiar titles. _A Thousand and One Agrabian Nights; The Shoemaker and the Elves; Little Ashputtle-_

_Creak._

Elsa stopped and looked around. The library was still dark. "But I could've sworn…" she whispered to herself, and listened.

There was nothing. It was an old castle; it made noises. She was just messing with her own mind. She went back to looking over the titles.

_Creee-ak._

She jumped and turned to the left, peering into the darkness. Nothing. Noth-

Someone clapped their hand over her mouth.

Elsa screamed and tried to jerk away, but the person was holding her fast and whispering frantically, "Please, be quiet, stop screaming-!"

She managed to get a hand between her and the intruder, and a veritable blizzard shot out of her palm, slamming him into the opposite shelf.

The intruder lay motionless, covered in fluffy powder, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, suddenly panicked. "Don't be dead, please, don't be dead," she muttered, rushing forward.

The man (for it was indeed a man) groaned suddenly, and she sighed in relief—that was, until the man opened his distinctly green eyes, and she suddenly realized that she knew him very well. "You!" she snapped.

Hans groaned again and rubbed the back of his head. "Me." He stood up. "Your Majesty-"

"What in the _world_ do you think you're doing?!" she hissed, readying her hands for another attack. "I could have you imprisoned for that! You _should_ be imprisoned anyway! I want an explanation this very instant, Prince Hans, or I swear I will freeze you into an iceberg so fast, you won't have time to shiver!"

He held up two placating hands. "I understand. Just—allow me a second, please, to catch my breath, and then I will explain everything."

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. Hans righted himself and dusted the snow off his clothes—she noticed that, oddly enough, he was still in his suit—before saying, "Alright, I imagine you have several questions."

"Yes. One being, why did you _sneak up _on me in the _middle of the night?!_ If this is an assassination, you've lost your touch."

The words stung, but Hans pressed on. "It wasn't an...assassination. I need to speak with you."

"Oh? Care to divulge _why_ you had to assault me in the library to do so?"

"I couldn't risk being overheard."

"Overheard?" That caught her attention. "What do you need to say that's so dangerous you couldn't risk saying it earlier today? I noticed you stayed quite silent."

"What I need to say, your Majesty, are the exact reasons why you need to agree to this proposal."

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped ten degrees, as did her temperament. "I have nothing to say on the matter of your 'proposal,'" she said icily.

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do," Hans snapped. "But my brother wants control over Arendelle, and unlike me, he's not so kind as to just go after her queen to get it."

Elsa felt her blood run cold. "What?"

Hans glanced around and then said in a low voice, "If he knew I was telling you this, I'd be hung for high treason. But Agnar has informed all twelve of us—and me specifically—that unless there's a wedding soon, he will take 'extreme measures.' I assume those would include waging war on Arendelle, killing you and any other heirs—Anna included—and taking the country for his own. Oh, and he's made it quite clear that if I don't do my _job–"_ His voice was filled with disgust, though at her or his brother, she couldn't tell, "–there will be one less prince of the Southern Isles."

"Wh-why should I believe–"

"Because they did not fear to insult you by offering _my_ hand, out of all of my brothers, which they'd only do if they knew you'd have to accept when you saw the sails on the horizon."

This was reasoning she couldn't deny. Elsa's mind was racing, trying to understand all of this and formulate a plan. She paced a few meters away, wringing her hands and thinking. "That doesn't make sense," she argued, half to herself. "Even if we were to get married, you would be prince consort–"

"He would demand you crown me king."

"–And even if you were king, you would be king of _Arendelle,_ we wouldn't be part of the Southern Isles–"

"Until you and I, and your sister _and_ the mountain man, fall victim to a tragic 'accident.'" He waved a hand. "Beautiful funerals, the kingdom grieves, and oh, how kind of them, the Southern Isles are there to help Arendelle in her time of need. You have no relatives, I believe, except for your cousin in Corona, and she's already in line for her own throne. Meanwhile, Agnar has eleven extra brothers."

"Your second-eldest brother would be the nearest family relation. He would take the crown, making Arendelle effectively a vassal state," Elsa murmured.

"Precisely." He paused, as did she. They'd both been pacing, and they met eyes. "Do you really think your people would stand for that?"

"No, never," Elsa said, shaking her head. Her people valued their freedom and peace; moreover, the citizens of Arendelle had far more a say in their government, she knew, than those of the Southern Isles. "They would rebel in a heartbeat. So either way, we go to war."

"The Southern Isles' navy is strong, and I'm certain my brother has already given word to begin preparations for an invasion. Arendelle is easy to defend by terrain, but not if your people have no time to prepare," Hans said grimly. "And certainly not without a clear head of state. The king would crush Arendelle, ruthlessly. He is an evil man."

"And I suppose you're one to pontificate to me about morality," she shot back.

He gave a bitter laugh, and to her surprise it sounded slightly sad, as well. "No, I wouldn't suppose so. But whatever you may think of me, your Majesty, know that my brothers are much worse than I am."

"Worse than a psychotic would-be murderer?" she said doubtfully.

He nodded grimly. "You may call me insane, and perhaps you're right. But if I am indeed…'psychotic,' then at the very least I am not sadistic." He walked a few paces away and then turned towards her again. "It's marriage or war. Either way, you die, I die, your family dies, and Arendelle becomes a vassal state of the Southern Isles."

"So- what should we do?" she said, trying to work through this. "I have absolutely no desire to marry _you,_ of all people. And if even that won't spare my people…" She turned to him. "There _has_ to be some way out."

She saw the look in his eyes. Then she saw in the crook in his mouth. Her face fell into a glare. "What?"

"Luckily for you, my queen," he said with a chuckle, "I have spent the last several days coming up with a plan."

"Have you," she replied, flatly.

"Here is what I suggest. We pretend to hate each other at first—" She snorted. "—Well, that won't really be pretending. But in any case, we hate each other, then slowly your heart begins to thaw and you fall madly in love with me, etc. etc., then I, in usual devious fashion, disappear one day, never to be seen again and leaving behind a betrayed, broken-hearted ex-fiancé."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I could pull that last bit off for very long."

"You won't have to. Arendelle is not a very populous country, but it is immensely defendable, what with your lovely fjords and mountains. Not to mention all twelve of my brothers just waltzed into your castle." He waved a hand. "With their main military leaders taken captive overseas, the Southern Isles' armies would be crippled. I trust that you'll be able to discreetly gather your own forces by that time and have them assemble to fight off any subsequent incursion. You'll have the advantage of surprise, and the war will be much shorter and less bloody than it would be if you were caught off-guard."

"And you?"

"I'll be somewhere in the wide world, using a different name and making a nice little fortune for myself, seeded by a small payment from your palace treasury—nothing your coffers can't handle, I assure you. Everyone wins—well, except Agnar, but believe me, that's for the better."

"Would we be able to tell Anna and Kristoff?" Elsa said, hating herself for even considering collaboration_,_ but considering it all the same.

"Do you believe you can trust them?"

"Yes," she answered instantly.

"Then you may do what you will, but I'll warn you that the less people who know, the better."

She acknowledged this with the barest trace of a nod. "Would we really be able to fool them?"

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "You are a master of concealment, I am a master of deception. I think between the two of us, we should be able to pull it off."

She eyed him warily. "Assuming that we do decide to implement your little scheme, and assuming we even _succeed,_ how do I know I can trust _you?"_

Hans regarded her silently for a moment, and then said coolly, "You don't. But there are two things we have in common."

"Which are?"

"We both have a lot to lose at the hands of my brother… and a lot to gain."

There was silence in the room. Elsa thought long and hard about the idea. In the end, she voiced her conclusion with a tone of extreme distaste. "It seems we have no choice."

He smiled, an intelligent, determined sort of smile that gave even the queen of the ice a slight shiver, to see such a fire in his eyes. "Then it appears, your Majesty, we are co-conspirators against the crown of the Southern Isles."

"It appears we are," she agreed. He extended a hand, and she knew that, short of a contract, which could be found or traced, this was the most binding way she could seal this oath.

She reached out and shook it.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked the chapter! Please review. : )**


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Elsa was grateful that morning for fancy Coronian cosmetic powder, because it was the only thing that could hide the purplish bruise rings under her eyes. After Hans had left the library, she had found she couldn't sleep a wink, and so naturally was quite exhausted. She'd finally managed to drift off just as the sky had begun to pale to gray outside her window, and had been jolted awake to the frantic pounding of a servant at her door, telling her through the wood that she was late for the council meeting. Elsa scrambled to get dressed and made-up, pinning up her hair as she ran out of her room and down the stairs to the council chambers.

Anna was waiting outside the room for her. "They're all in there," she said, with obvious contempt. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Elsa could have kicked herself; of course, she'd need to warn Anna about what she was going to do. But she'd completely forgotten and now didn't have the time to explain. "Anna, listen to me," she said in a low voice, glancing around. "When we go in there...something very strange is going to happen. I need you to go along with it."

The younger sister furrowed her reddish-blonde eyebrows. "Strange? What do you mean, strange?"

"Just–" She glanced at the door, worried someone would be listening. "Please, Anna. I need your support in this. I promise, I'll make everything clear later, but I need you to trust me right now, okay?"

Anna still looked confused, but she nodded. "Yeah, of course I trust you. Don't worry, I'll back you up in there." She smiled and straightened up stoutly, and Elsa wished she'd had more of a chance to impress on her the _absolute importance_ that she play along.

However, such a chance was not available, for the door suddenly opened, revealing an anxious Kai. "Ah, your Majesty, your Highness," the manservant said. "We were just about to come looking for you."

"Well, we are both here now," Elsa said nervously, smoothing her dress down- cotton, not ice, which was good because the way she felt right now, she'd probably freeze her own clothes to the chair. Taking a steadying breath, she walked into the room.

The Southern King was in the large chair opposite hers, with her own council on her right and the princes to her left. Hans was the closest, and she shot him a frosty glare as she entered—well, as frosty as she could manage. Her stomach felt like someone had reached inside her and tied it in knots.

"My most sincere apologies for my tardiness," she said as she entered and everyone stood. Anna walked over to her chair on the nearest right. "I do hope you won't hold it against me."

"Not at all, your Majesty," King Agnar replied graciously, as they all once again took their seats. "Now, to business?"

"To business," she agreed, keeping her voice cool and calm. "Regarding the matter of Prince Hans's proposal, I have reached my decision...and my answer is yes."

The look on her councilmembers' faces would have been hysterical, if the situation weren't so serious. Her department heads were all stunned. Kristoff looked mutinous. Anna's mouth had dropped open. For one shocked moment, nobody could think to say anything.

And then, the questions started.

"Your Majesty, you cannot be serious!" Lord Dokken, the duke of the Southeastern Province, exclaimed, getting to his feet. Elsa stood, as well. "This– this _traitor_ cannot be allowed to become our king! The people would never stand for it!"

"You forget, Lord Dokken, that it was Prince Hans who oversaw my people's protection during the Great Freeze a little over a year ago," she pointed out. "While..._certain_ of his actions were less than honorable, you cannot deny that he didn't wish to harm my citizens in any way—in fact, he opened up the palace to house and feed them."

"Be that as it may, my Queen, and with all due respect to your Majesty, King Agnar," said her minister of trade, a man by the name of Folkestad, giving a short bow to the Southern king, "he did attempt to assassinate you and left your sister in grave peril. He lied to us all and attempted to remove our monarch and the surviving heir!"

"That he did," Elsa answered evenly. "And I agree, it will take a great deal of effort to placate the public. But it is an effort I am willing to undertake."

"To what end?!" demanded Lady Evjen, a duchess of the Southwestern Province. "How in the world would this be beneficial to anyone, least of all yourself, Queen Elsa?!"

"Your Majesty, if I may," Bishop Willum said tranquilly, rising from his seat. Elsa gave her nod of approval. "The Queen seems to me to be showing great wisdom and clemency, something I do not believe we should fault her for. If she is willing to forgive the young prince and accept his proposal for the betterment of our relationship with the Southern Isles, then I say we at least consider her agreement to said proposal."

"My thanks, Willum," Elsa said with an appreciative nod. The bishop returned to his seat.

"And what of the traitor?" snapped her treasurer, glaring at Hans. "Has he nothing to say for himself on the matter?"

Hans raised his head and looked around the council table. "My offer still stands," he said finally, voice calm. "Whether she accepts it or not is her choice."

"Gentlemen, women, what it comes down to is this," Elsa said, addressing the whole table. "A great rift has opened between us and the Southern Isles. It is a rift they themselves cannot repair. Rather than have a quarter of a century of goodwill between the two kingdoms crumble over my pride, I would like to extend my agreement to such a proposal as an act of goodwill. Furthermore, if any here are worried about the prince using the throne to his own ends-" She shot an icy look towards Hans, who merely stared straight ahead, "-I can _assure_ you, I will be able to handle it." As if to prove her point, the temperature in the room fell several degrees, and a few of those present shivered.

Several among her council still seemed ready to debate, but before they could, Anna stood. "My sister has made her decision," she declared. "It was hers to make. Hasn't she been a good queen to you this past year? Has her judgment _ever_ failed you?" They glanced around, and then grudgingly shook their heads. "Then if this could maybe help—what are they called?—'foreign relations,' then I think we should trust her." She looked over to Elsa again and said firmly, "I do."

Elsa smiled in gratitude, relieved, and then turned back to the table. "My answer, again, is yes. While I of course welcome your advice, I will remind you all that this is my decision." There were a few mumbles and glances around the table, but the gentle rebuke seemed to have abashed her council enough to quell objections—for the time being, anyway. "This meeting is adjourned. Shall we reconvene tomorrow and work out the details?" She glanced over to Agnar.

"Naturally. Until tomorrow, then." The Southern king and the princes all stood, bowed, and left the room. After a quiet word from Elsa, the Arendellian council left, as well, looking as if they'd certainly be muttering amongst themselves as soon as they were out of her earshot.

Once the door was closed, Anna turned to Elsa. "Okay," she said, folding her arms and frowning. "You said you'd explain. I want an explanation."

"That makes two of us," said Kristoff, who'd so far spoken not a word.

Elsa sighed and sat down, rubbing her temples. "It's a bit complicated…"

She explained to them the situation as Hans had revealed it to her the night before. As she did so, Kristoff's eyes grew narrower and narrower, and Anna grew paler and paler. When she was finished, the younger sister exclaimed, "You can't be serious!"

"I wish I weren't. I've already sent word south to start preparing our navy."

"But—_war?"_ she shook her head, stunned. "The king seemed like such a-" She stopped short. "I know, I know. I guess they're all like that, huh?"

"It seems so. But unfortunately, I don't think Hans is acting on this one."

"How do you know he isn't lying?" Kristoff questioned doubtfully.

"Because it makes sense. Why would they make such a proposal unless they were hoping to avoid a more direct confrontation? The king doesn't seem like a stupid man; he wouldn't have risked such a blatantly ridiculous offer unless he had a secondary plan up his sleeve to get to the throne. I think he was counting on the fact that Hans would be able to keep the secret until it was too late…but he didn't expect his brother to go rogue." Her expression was grim. "It appears we're just lucky Hans hates his older brother more than he hates us."

Anna grimaced. "I can't believe we have to work with _him._ I mean, I...ugh." She shuddered. "And the thought of you even _pretending_ to be engaged to that jerk…"

"I know. I hate it as much as you do. But it's the only way to buy us enough time." She looked between the two of them seriously. "I need you two to pretend to go along with this, or it'll never work. The four of us will have to fool two whole countries, so I need to know I can count on you. Can I?"

Anna and Kristoff glanced at each other, and then Anna nodded. "Alright. I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it."

"I'm in, too," Kristoff said grudgingly. "I just…I don't like it."

"That makes three of us," Elsa sighed. "Hans isn't very keen on the idea, either, at least as far as I can tell. But we don't have a choice." Her face was set. "I need you two to help me fake a romance as best as I possibly can."

"Us? Why us?" Anna said, surprised.

Elsa smiled, but it was a rueful smile at best. "Because you're the only love experts I've got."

* * *

"Here y'go, Buddy; big serving of hay with a carrot for desert."

The reindeer snorted appreciatively, and Kristoff chuckled. "That's the life, right? Got to thank living in a castle for that; we never got carrots this time of year before."

Sven set to munching on the hay, and Kristoff sighed. "I gotta tell you, Sven, I don't like it. I don't trust Prince Loony-Bin, I don't trust his twelve sneaky brothers, and I honestly don't know if I should trust Elsa's judgment on this one."

"Well, one out of three is better than nothing."

He looked over to see Anna standing in the doorway of the stables. "Yeah?" he said, smiling a bit despite himself. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean," Anna said, walking over and pulling a handful of hay from the bales in the middle, "That even if we can't trust Hans—and I _don't,"_ she reassured him, seeing his dark look, "—we can trust Elsa."

"It's not her intentions I'm doubting, Anna, it's her decision to work with this guy."

"Believe me, my sister's too smart to fall for his tricks," Anna said, letting Sven nibble the hay off her palm. "Besides, even if it turns out he _is_ conning us, she'll be able to handle him _no-problemo."_ She dusted off her hands for emphasis.

It was such an adorable motion that the mountain man couldn't help but grin. Within less than two months, this feisty redhead would be his wife—his companion in all things, his best friend, the mother of his children and, above all, the love of his life. Most people would consider twelve months' worth of courtship and six of engagement to be rather hasty, but considering Anna's track record, a year and a half was practically an eternity. Besides, they knew each other better than anyone; even Elsa, close as she and Anna were, did not know some of the things he knew about his fiancé. And that was just fine, Elsa had assured him at the time of his and Anna's engagement; she didn't mind the closeness between the pair, nor did she feel as if she were being shut out. "All I want," the Queen had told him, "is for Anna to know that she is truly loved. And if you can do that for her, I wouldn't dream of interfering."

"Kristoff? He-_llooo?"_ A hand waving in front of his face drew him back to the present moment. "Are you listening to me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry," he said, shaking himself slightly. "You've got a point; if he's as smart as he looks, he wouldn't dare try messing with Elsa. Not again, anyway," Kristoff agreed. Then he added, "You sure _you_ won't fall for his tricks?"

Anna could tell by his tone that he was only teasing her, but she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure," she said seriously, but she was smiling, too. "Besides," she added in a much lighter tone, "Who would even bother _looking _at that rat with a big, handsome guy like you around?"

Kristoff blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh…"

"See? Even you can't come up with a name. Can you, Sven?"

_"No,"_ Kristoff answered in Sven's voice.

"Didn't think so," Anna said cheerfully. She grabbed him by the hand and tugged. "Now come on! You promised you'd show me how to ice-fish today, remember?"

Kristoff laughed. "Alright, feisty-pants, alright, I'm coming." He followed her out of the stables with a dopey grin. Sven gave a snort that sounded more like a laugh, and Kristoff shot him a look. "Jealous," the ice-harvester said, before Anna pulled him out completely, leaving Sven to chuckle as best a reindeer could.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked it! I've recently come down with a bad cold, plus my final papers are due soon, so updates might be a tad slower for the next week. _Pax et bonum!_**


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work. And yes, the scene in the middle was one of the outtakes I adapted to fit this fic.**

* * *

Both councils met again as the formal engagement meeting commenced the following morning. Elsa sat very poised and formal in her chair at the head of the table, signing several official documents and initialing them in triplicate. Hans had to sign a number of papers, as well, and these were then countersigned by King Agnar.

"Now all that's left is to discuss the actual wedding itself," the king said, when the paperwork was finished. "I believe it would be best if it would happen in short order."

"I agree; that would be most effective," Elsa said calmly. "However, wedding preparations, especially for a royal marriage, take some time." She was hoping to put off the wedding for at least six months, which would give her ample time to ready her troops without having to fear an actual marriage.

"Princess Anna's wedding to Sir Kristoff is to take place three days before Christmas," one of her counselors pointed out. "Your Majesty's marriage could take place at the same time and the preparation work would be negligible. It would save the treasury a great deal, as well."

Elsa felt frost crystals gathering in her hands, but she managed to not let her panic show on her face. "Would it not seem to the public a bit rushed?"

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, this whole affair will undoubtedly seem strange to the people. A rushed wedding will be the least we have to explain."

Elsa fought the growing migraine inside her skull and said, "Well. I suppose it's settled, then." She glanced over at Anna apologetically, knowing that this would positively _ruin_ her sister's wedding day. Kristoff didn't look too happy, either, but he thankfully remained silent.

"Now, as to announcing the engagement," King Agnar said with a tone of satisfaction.

"It is Arendellian custom to announce all royal engagements with a ball," Elsa explained. "Unless you have any objections?"

The councilmembers from both countries exchanged glances. When no objection was forthcoming, Elsa nodded. "Alright, then. There will be a ball at the end of the week announcing the engagement."

* * *

A small crowd had gathered around the signpost in the town square, murmuring and shaking their heads at each other, baffled. A little boy ran up, trying to crawl between the adults' legs and look through to see what was going on. When he couldn't, he stamped his foot, frustrated, and waited for the adults to leave.

But they didn't—in fact, the crowd only grew, and the murmurings became louder and the shakings more emphatic. When he saw a gap open up between two villagers, he took his opportunity and darted through.

He managed to get through to the front of the crowd and looked up at the lamppost, upon which a poster had been tacked. Moving his mouth as he sounded out the words silently, he found the sign to read the following message:

_By Decree of Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle:_

_All subjects who hold residence within the capital city are hereby cordially invited to a ball set for the evening of this Saturday to formally announce the betrothal of HM Queen Elsa Marie Andersen of Arendelle to HRH Prince Johannes Andreas Westergaard of the Southern Isles._

* * *

Elsa looked at herself in the mirror, fidgeting nervously. The dress she was wearing was one of her favorites, navy-blue with a sweetheart neckline and white lace edging, and she had covered it in a thin layer of frost-pattern designs of her own invention. Currently she was braiding her hair up into her more formal twist-and-bun. Outside, she looked the picture of poise, respectability, and grace.

Inside, she was a panicked mess.

The press conference had gone over as well as could be expected; the newspaper reporters had asked her question after question, most of them beginning with the words _how_ or _why,_ and her answers seemed to have satisfied their curiosity, at least in part. But how the public would respond, she had no idea. She knew that her council was less than pleased with the decision. _She_ would have less than pleased with the decision, had she not known that it was all a ruse. But no one could know that, save her, Anna, and Kristoff.

And Hans. That was another cause for nervousness. How would the people react to Hans? How would _she_ react to Hans? Spending a whole night in the perpetual presence of the man who'd tried to behead her was not Elsa's idea of a good time. So flustered was she that she didn't even notice when the ice that had been slowly creeping across the desk shot out and shattered the vase of flowers. She let out a little gasp of surprise. "Oh no…" She took a deep breath, trying to settle herself. "Calm yourself. Control yourself," she chanted, closing her eyes and picturing a dozen images at once- Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, Sven, Mama and Papa-

"Elsa!" a voice called, and the queen opened her eyes, startled. Anna came bounding into the room. "I'm here! I'm back!"

The queen crossed her arms, smiling good-naturedly and raising an eyebrow. Anna was covered in a number of substances, not all of which she could pinpoint. "What happened to you?"

"Pig. Pie," Anna said with a shrug as she crossed to Elsa's wardrobe, as if this sufficed as an explanation. "I mean, not a pig-pie! Pig _and _pie. And ocean." She began rummaging through the clothes. "Where's that rose dress?"

"Still recovering from the last time you wore it," Elsa said dryly, as her sister disappeared inside the wardrobe.

"Oh, right." Elsa jumped as a shoe struck the wall near her. "Sorry!"

"Please don't make a mess!" the elder said, annoyed.

"Ooh, how about this!" She jumped out of the closet, dressed a gaudy and more than a little revealing gold-and-violet gown, which Elsa had never worn.

The queen shook her head. "Mm-mm. You are _not_ wearing that to my engagement ball."

"Okay." Anna tore the dress off over her head and dove back into the closet. "Mm hm-hm…"

Elsa turned around again as she heard a delighted gasp. Anna jumped back out of the closet. "What is _this?!"_ she demanded, laughing.

The dress she had donned was quite, er, _voluptuous,_ and an obnoxious shade of orange. "Ooh! Ooh-la_-la!"_ Anna said, dancing around. "My hips are _here, _my hips are _there, _oh, pardon my behind, young man; I didn't mean to knock you down!"

Elsa chuckled. "It was just a gift."

"From who?"

"I don't know, one of the, uh, big countries." She plopped a hat on her sister's head. "Stop goofing around."

"Why, I can barely fit through the doorway!" Anna said in that ridiculous accent, trying to go to her side of the adjoined dressing rooms.

"Would you _please_ try to find something nice to wear? This is a formal occasion, you know."

"Oh, sure, very formal. Your fake engagement and everything."

_"Anna!"_ Elsa said in a sharp hiss, looking around. "I told you not to call it that. If anyone found out…"

"I know, I know. Sorry." She peeked her head out again through the door. "Hey…are you okay?"

"Hm? I'm fine; why?"

"Well… you froze over the flowers."

Elsa looked over to the vase and realized she'd forgotten to cover it up. She sighed. "Alright, I'm a little nervous."

"Me, too." She hesitated, and then walked back out, biting her lip. "To be honest, I don't like this one bit."

"I don't blame you." She nodded to the door. "How's Kristoff doing with this whole thing?"

"Eh, well, he hasn't broken anything yet or tried to kill Hans, so I'd say pretty darn fantastic." She hurried across to her side of the joint rooms again, still talking. "So anyway, not to be self-centered, but we're both kind of wondering–"

"How your real wedding is going to work with my fake one?" Elsa finished, fussing with her hair to tuck a few loose strands into the pins.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm just a little curious."

"Well, I can't be absolutely certain yet, but the main idea is once Agnar shows his true colors, I'll lock him in dungeon and then we'll have your wedding. And then hopefully we'll be able to avoid a war." Elsa winced. "I'm sorry, Anna."

"Oh, it's cool. Just wanted to be clear."

Elsa sighed and walked over to the doorway, leaning against the wall. "I really am sorry," she said regretfully. "You deserve to have a perfect wedding day, not one stuck between a betrayal and an invasion and who knows what else."

"Elsa," Anna said firmly, peeking her head back through. "It's fine. Really. It doesn't matter to Kristoff or me when or how the wedding happens. Just so long as it, you know, happens."

"It will," Elsa promised.

"Good." Anna popped back inside for a brief second, and then said, "Okay, how does this look?" She came out of the room.

The younger sister had donned a gorgeous forest-green gown, with a sweetheart collar and half-arm sleeves. The dark color set off her pale skin and fiery red hair, making her almost seem to glow. "Oh, Anna," Elsa said, smiling fondly. "You look beautiful."

"You think Kristoff will like it?" the younger said, spinning slightly.

"Like it? He'll love it," she promised. "But your hair…"

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Anna said, raising a hand to the done-up style, similar to the one she'd used for Elsa's coronation.

"Nothing's wrong with it, but you should try wearing it down."

"You think?" Anna reached up to unclip the bun, and her long red locks tumbled down. The sides were pulled back in a braided style, but the rest of it splayed across her back and shoulders. The appearance made her look like less like a little girl and more like the young woman of twenty she really was. "Do you like it better this way?"

Elsa smiled. "Now you look perfect."

"Oh, no. You look way better," her sister gushed. "I love the frost designs."

"Thank you." The two smiled at each other, and then Anna suddenly hugged Elsa.

The elder laughed. "Anna! What's gotten into you?"

"I just…I'm glad," the younger said with a smile, pulling away. "This is…exactly what I always wanted for us. Well, not the whole 'facing-treason-and-imminent-danger' sort of thing, but the 'sisters-who-share-clothes-and-laugh-and-stuff' thing. I'm glad I have a real sister now, one I can talk to."

Elsa smiled softly. "Me too."

The clock outside suddenly chimed, and Elsa let out a little gasp. "Oh goodness, the time! You need to go!"

"Why?"

"The guests will be arriving soon. I can't come in until they're ready for my entrance, but you and Kristoff have to be there as hosts. Go on!" The blonde quickly shooed her laughing younger sister out of the room and closed the door. Then she turned back to her mirror, picking up her crown.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, holding the delicate gold tiara in her hands, her smile faded. This wasn't a fun occasion. This was subterfuge. And she had a part to play, a part that had nothing to do with gowns and hairdos and real weddings.

Slowly, she placed the crown on her head, standing ramrod straight, her face impassive despite the troubled worry that was slowly filling her heart.

_Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't let it show._

_Make one wrong move…_

She took a steadying breath, trying to calm the ice in her veins.

…_And _everyone_ will know._

* * *

"Introducing to you…Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and His Royal Highness, Prince Johannes Westergaard of the Southern Isles."

The doors opened, and Elsa entered the room, inclining her head as the townspeople clapped. Hans entered in from the opposite doors, joining her on the dais. The applause was less enthusiastic for him, but—much to Elsa's surprise—she found that the majority of antipathy came from the nobility present, not the peasantry.

At short length the applause subsided, leaving the two standing awkwardly side-by-side on the dais. "…Hello," Hans said after some time, hands clasped behind his back and not looking in her direction.

"Hello," she returned coolly.

He hesitated, trying to find something to say. "…It's a nice ball," he decided on finally. "Especially considering the limited preparation time."

"My thanks," Elsa replied, voice containing no hint of warmth.

"You're not much for conversation, are you?" he said as he turned to her, deciding to drop the act of cordiality.

"With you?" she replied, tone like ice. "Hardly."

"Listen, this isn't any more pleasant for me than it is for you–"

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this _inconvenient_ for you?" she inquired, her face a mask of false courtesy as she folded her hands. Hans couldn't help but admire that; her words, half under her breath, were pure acid, but not a single onlooker would have seen the slightest bit of impropriety. "Please, tell me what I can do to make _you_ feel more comfortable around _me."_

He opened his mouth and then shut it again. "Alright. I can tell when I'm not wanted–"

"Excellent," she said, pleasantly.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to roll his eyes at her like a petulant ten-year-old, but Hans managed it and stepped off the dais, walking away. He spotted Anna and her fiancé on the opposite side of the room and decided to avoid that particular area, leaving him with the company on either side. Such company was mainly nobility, since the common people—who it seemed had either less ego or more zest for life than the higher-ups—were dancing to the upbeat folk music being played by several musicians in the corner.

"Ah, Prince Hans," a slightly superior voice said, catching him by the arm. Hans turned. "So glad you're here. Tell us, will there be any modifications to the princess's wedding? Say, in seating arrangements?"

The man seemed to be a dignitary from a visiting country, who clearly wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be booted off the guest list. "Regretfully, that detail hasn't quite been worked out yet," Hans explained calmly.

"What about other details?" asked a nosy middle-aged noblewoman.

"Sorry?"

"Color choices, decorations, housing arrangements for guests—there's an awful lot to do, don't you think?"

A small group was beginning to form. Hans was baffled; surely all these people knew exactly who he was and what he'd done. He could see it in their eyes. And yet, they weren't mentioning it. Diplomacy, no doubt. He cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon, ma'am; I am not very familiarized in the matters of, er…wedding-planning."

She gave a little laugh, like a tinkling bell. "How very like a man." The other lords and ladies laughed, as well. "Tell me, Prince Hans, what does the Queen think of all this?"

And there it was. He could see the derision in their eyes, and realized, quite suddenly, that this was no mere idle conversation: they were mocking him, in their highbred way, making a joke of such a terribly ironic situation. He felt his ears begin to burn, but had no choice but to play along. "I'm afraid I have no idea what the Queen's opinion on this matter is."

"Oh, she's very guarded, the Arendellian Queen," one of the men, a tall fellow with a flint-sharp nose, said in a voice far too nonchalant to be real. "Heaven alone knows what she thinks of the whole situation." Several snide smiles were exchanged among the group, outward expressions of the uproarious laughter they were holding back, for of course there could be no doubt what Queen Elsa must have thought about wedding her former assassin.

"And then there is the princess herself to think about," another started in, "as well as her betrothed—well, her new betrothed. Tell us, are the two grooms-to-be getting along?"

"Mr. Bjorgman and I are not very well acquainted," he answered smoothly.

"But what about Princess Anna? Surely the two of you are quite familiar."

This was the most barbed question yet, and the nobles had lost all pretenses of nonchalance—in fact, they were casting him such dark and jeering looks that they seemed to be choking off the air around him. Even as the conversation continued, something terrible was beginning to happen. Something awful that only he could see.

_Swirling snow. Ice crunching beneath his feet. The queen, fallen to the ground in front of him._

No. No. NO.

_Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't feel. Don't feel, don't feel…_

The images kept coming. A sword. Blood, everywhere. Blood, through her dress, her white-blonde hair, on him. Blood. Dead.

_Don't feel. Don't think._

He was still talking, somehow, carrying on a conversation without any actual thought to it. He heard, as if from a distance, his own voice say in a very calm and collected tone, "Princess Anna has given her consent to the agreement. As to the wedding itself, I believe it will of course have elements of the Queen's own, ah, particular talents in it. It should fit the season quite well; Arendellian winters are said to be quite spectacular."

"But for a wedding? Aren't fall weddings customary in this country?"

"The Princess and Mr. Bjorgman apparently wished for more time in their preparations. As the two occasions have been planned to coincide, I think a winter wedding will be appropriate." He took a champagne flute from a nearby servant as they passed and took a drink, trying to settle his nerves. It didn't work. Everything seemed hyper-intensified, colors and sounds and even peoples' expressions all pressing in. His legs felt like lead, or tree trunks rooted into the ground. He couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't even swallow. The world seemed to be going blotchy from the inside out and his face was turning numb and his whole mouth tasted like it was plated in copper.

In the end, it was years of diplomacy training that saved him. Somehow he managed to unglue his feet from the ground, made some excuse, and quickly departed the ballroom. He found himself outside, somewhere—how he'd gotten there, he couldn't quite remember—and he sat down heavily on a bench.

"Come on, Hans," he muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose with a trembling hand. The image of the queen lying motionless and drenched in scarlet passed before his eyes again, and he let out a hiss through his teeth as if he'd been struck. "Get ahold of yourself. You can't do this here."

The images kept coming in spite of his words. Unbidden, there rose to his mind the picture of Anna as she'd been that day on the fjord: dead, frozen solid, her mouth open in a silent cry.

"Get—get ahold…"

He was knotting his jacket into a noose around the cell window's bars.

"Just-"

The queen was dead. The princess was dead. _Everyone_ was dead.

_"Please…"_

Because of _him._

* * *

"Elsa? Hello, Elsa?"

A hand waved itself in front of her face, and Elsa jumped slightly, looking over. "Anna. Sorry, what was that?"

"You okay?" the princess said, looking concerned. Kristoff was frowning behind her. "I asked you if you wanted some chocolate and you didn't even respond."

"I just…" She looked over, and Anna followed her gaze to where a group of noblemen and women were laughing amongst themselves as if something uproariously funny had just occurred. "I need to handle something," Elsa said, traces of anger in her firm tone.

"Oh," Anna said, confused. "Well, okay then. See you later?"

"Mm." Elsa left, an intensely stern look on her face.

Anna looked over at Kristoff. "What do you think that was about?"

The iceman shrugged. "Hey, it's getting pretty crowded in here; you wanna go outside?"

"Yeah, sure," she agreed cheerfully. He took her by the hand and led her downstairs and out into the gardens.

They walked along for sometime, Anna popping chocolates into her mouth and talking animatedly about this or that. Kristoff just smiled at her, making a comment here and there but for the most part remaining silent. He never tired of listening to what she thought of the world, how she saw everything as being an occasion of amazement and joy. The littlest of things would draw her attention and cause her delight; Kristoff wasn't sure if it was living her whole life in one castle that caused her to see life in this manner or if it was just her wonder-filled personality, although he was inclined to think it was the latter.

Eventually they found themselves in one of the many walled gardens, and Kristoff gestured to a bench, asking her if she wanted to sit down. Anna nodded happily, and he quickly brushed the snow off of it for her. Anna sat down, and he took a seat beside her. "Wow," Anna said, her voice breathless.

"What?"

"Look up."

Kristoff followed her gaze and saw that the night sky was filled with countless twinkling stars. He chuckled at her amazement and looked back at her. Her blue-green eyes seemed to almost glow in the starlight.

She noticed he was watching and looked over, tilting her head in confusion. "What?"

He grinned. "You look beautiful."

She smiled and ducked her head prettily. "Th-thanks," she stammered, and then shivered.

"You cold?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Here." He shrugged off his blue tailcoat and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Kristoff, you don't have to do that," Anna said, blushing.

"Don't worry 'bout it; 'sides, I hate tailcoats. They never fit right."

"But won't you be cold?"

"Anna," he said seriously, but he was smiling, "I could be freezing solid—literally—and I'd want you to have my coat."

"You mean it?" she said softly.

"Of course I do," he said, standing up. "**If I only had one word**

**Or only one thought,**

**It'd be about you,**

**And for me, that's a lot.**

**I've never had much**

**But then, my needs are few.**

**There's no man richer than me**

**So long as I have you."**

She giggled and stood as well. _"Who could've guessed it,"_ she said,

"_But here we both are._

_And so close to finding_

_What we've always searched for._

_And if I had nothing,"_ she added, taking both his hands in hers,

"_Please, know that it's true,_

_The one present I'd give_

_Would be this heart to you."_

"**And if I could make only one promise,"** Kristoff said, twirling her and making Anna laugh,

"**Here's what it'd be-"**

"_That no matter what you've got,"_ she swore,

"_You've always got me."_

"**And I've only got one life,"** he said.

"_Only one life," _she agreed.

"_**So just hear my song:**_

_**For as long as you live,"**_ they both promised,

"_**You'll never be alone."**_

"**If I had a single penny,"** he added, pulling a copper øre out of his pocket,

"**And you hadn't got one**

**You'd find it in your pocket,**

**And then I'd have none." **He slipped it into her hand.

"_And if I had one kiss_

_I'd give it to you,"_ said Anna, pecking him on the cheek.

"_Because if you had just one, I know,_

_You'd give it to me, too."_

Kristoff grinned and tried to kiss her back, but she stepped up on to the bench before he could reach her, and so he missed, tripping forward slightly. Both laughed and then continued together,

"_**And if I could make only one promise**_

_**Here's what it'd be:**_

_**That no matter what you've got**_

_**You've always got me."**_

"**And I've only got one life,"** Kristoff said, offering her his hand.

"_Only one life,"_ Anna said, accepting it.

"_**So just hear my song:**_

_**For as long as you live,**_

_**You'll never be alone."**_

Kristoff lifted her by the hand and waist and spun her just slightly, helping her down off the bench. They ended up standing in the middle of the garden, nose-to-nose. "**And I've only got one life,"** he said softly.

"_Only one life,"_ Anna echoed.

"_**So just hear my song,"**_ they agreed in unison.

"_**For as long as you live,**_

_**You'll never be alone."**_

The two smiled at each other, and then Kristoff leaned in and kissed his fiancé, their figures silhouetted against the brightly shining moon behind them.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Hans looked over, startled, as the balcony door opened and then closed again, and bit back a groan; the very last person he wanted to see at the moment had unfortunately followed him out. Thankfully, he'd managed to calm himself down by that point, although it hadn't been easy. He hoped he didn't look as unwell as he felt.

Elsa was frowning deeply, and he cleared his throat. "My apologies for such a hasty departure," he said quickly.

"Never mind that; are you alright?" She sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised him. "You look rather unwell."

"Oh, no," he lied, shaking his head. "No, I'm quite fine, thank you."

"Really?" she said doubtfully, crossing her arms. "Last I checked, nearly passing out in a crowded ballroom did not constitute 'quite fine.'"

"What?"

"You were about to faint in there, weren't you? You looked pale as a sheet, and you didn't seem to be breathing too well."

He let out a low sigh. "Was it that obvious?"

"No. Well, as I said, you did look rather pale, but I don't think anyone else noticed. Are you feeling ill?"

He laughed a little, it seemed so absurd. "No. Not ill." He swallowed. "Their distaste was just rather…palpable."

"Oh." She paused. "Well…you can't really blame them."

"No, I can't say I do." He took another slow breath. "I would just…prefer to remain outside of striking range."

"Can you imagine if you were actually marrying me?" she said with a humorless chuckle. "Putting up with that every day."

"I think I might really pass out if I attempt it," he answered dryly.

They remained in silence for a few moments—not an uncomfortable one, as Hans had been expecting, but instead it was rather…well, maybe not pleasant, but certainly not unpleasant, either. Strangely enough, Elsa seemed to be making it a point to be more cordial to him than before, and while he didn't understand it, he wasn't about to complain.

"…I don't like crowds, either."

He looked over, startled. "Pardon?"

"Crowded spaces. I'm not…used to them." Her blue eyes were steady on his, searching for something. "I became accustomed to being alone, and–"

"If you want to know what being locked in a dungeon is like, you may as well ask." She paused, and he looked away. "Three weeks ago I was in prison," he muttered. "Do you think I'm proud of that?"

Elsa tried to keep her expression free of surprise. His vulnerability was obvious, and it was clear he didn't like it. "I remember being locked in a dungeon. Somebody made sure I had a blanket, though." He didn't respond, so she added: "I was only trying to help."

"You don't owe me your help. This is my own damned fault." He made to stand. "This is a ball in our honor. I won't embarrass you further by hiding out here; I can handle this."

"Don't kid yourself," she said softly.

There was a beat. Then he sat back down.

"In my experience," Elsa said carefully, "People won't miss the guest of honor for at least twenty minutes. Even more once they've started drinking."

He nodded. Silence filled the air.

"You know," she said at last, "there's one thing I still don't understand." She turned to face him. "If Agnar wants a Southern prince on the throne of Arendelle, why aren't you going along with it? Why the sudden change of heart?"

Her voice was, carefully, devoid of any sharp edge. Hans steadied his hands on his knees.

"As I said, I'm fairly certain Agnar would kill me as soon as I became king."

"But why–"

"Because I'm a loose cannon," Hans said bluntly. "I don't like my brothers, and I _don't_ like being told what to do. Agnar knows I would never consent to being a vassal king; I'd make things difficult for him. And as we've seen," he gestured to her, "I'm a rash, hot-tempered political liability."

"Fair enough."

"Furthermore, I no longer want to be king of Arendelle."

"And why is that?" she said dubiously.

"How would you like to go through the rest of your life being known as a monster?"

Elsa fell silent, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. He gave a nod.

"So. I'd much prefer to start over as a merchant. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

"I suppose so." She frowned. "But why you? He could have just tried to arrange a marriage with one of your brothers instead…"

"Because you're a loose cannon, too."

"I beg your pardon!" Frost flickered in the air.

Hans rolled his eyes. "It's a compliment. I _meant_ that it's more convenient for Agnar to kill us off together, rather than trying to marry you off to one of the others and dealing with your…_opinions."_

"I see."

"You're known internationally as a strong queen and a ruler not easily bullied. Agnar knows he won't be able to control you, so you'll have to go. It would be suspicious if you and Anna died after your marriage to one of my brothers, but if we _all_ died under tragic circumstances, well, _surely_ the king wouldn't kill his own little brother, and so _unnecessarily."_ He flashed a sardonic smile.

"Your family really is a piece of work."

"Certainly. Just ask our citizens." There was a surprising dry glumness to this last comment, and she recalled the expert care he'd given her people during the Great Freeze. "Anyway…for what it's worth, I really do wish you the best of luck in dealing with him." He sighed. "Our family has certainly caused yours enough trouble."

"You weren't even the first."

Hans chuckled grimly, and Elsa smiled. She looked up at the stars. "Politics," she sighed.

"Politics," Hans agreed. They fell back into silence.

Finally, she said, "We will have to go back in at one point, you know."

"I do," he agreed with a low sigh. "Just a few seconds, if you please." She gave a brief nod, and he closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself and carefully reconstructing the mask of cool detatchment that would allow him to make it through the rest of a ball filled with people who weren't exactly his biggest fans. He opened his eyes again and turned to her. "My thanks."

"Are you sure you're alright?" she said, tone and expression still full of that same seemingly honest concern that he didn't understand.

"I'm certain. Shall we?"

She inclined her head and he offered her his arm per force of habit. Elsa raised an eyebrow but did as tradition bade, and they reentered the ball together.

Hans was incredibly conscious of the stares and glares he was receiving, but Elsa hardly seemed to notice, walking with a cool, elegant aloofness that made her appear entirely untouchable. "They're staring at us," Hans informed her, as they stopped to stand at a place near a window, which was thankfully devoid of people.

"Let them. It'd be strange if they didn't." She accepted a glass of white wine from a passing servant and took a sip. An awkward silence passed, and he wondered why she didn't leave.

"…You don't have to stay here," he said finally.

"What, go and leave you to their mercies? I may not like you, Prince Hans, but I'm not that cruel." She glanced at him, just briefly, and he knew that _she_ knew that the moment she left, the various foreign and local dignitaries would again descend on him like harpies. What Hans couldn't understand, however, was _why_ she didn't want him to receive such well-deserved treatment. It seemed laughable that out of everyone who could be his defender against their malice, Elsa should fill the role. He tried not to look at her curiously, but confusion broiled within him. _Why are you protecting me?_

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. "In any case, we can't just keep standing here."

"I don't see why not."

"Well, _I_ can't. It's…frustrating."

"And what do you suggest I do about that?"

Hans considered it. "Care to dance?"

"I don't dance," she replied curtly.

He gave her a dubious look. "You expect me to believe that the heir of the royal family of Arendelle never learned to dance?"

"I never said I _couldn't_, just that I _didn't,"_ she answered coolly.

He let out a short, irritated sigh. "What if I promised to enjoy it as little as possible?"

She raised an eyebrow, then glanced out at the crowds. They were still whispering and staring, and as much as she hated to admit it, their blatant lack of tact was beginning to get on her nerves. She looked back at Hans, who held out a hand.

"Come on," he said. "Let's give them something to whisper about."

He had such a determined, _enough-is-enough_ sort of look in his eyes that Elsa couldn't help but smirk. Rolling her eyes, she nevertheless accepted his outstretched hand and followed him out into the middle of the floor just as the band started a new song. Hans curled his glove fingers around hers, and she sucked in a sharp breath as she felt his other hand take her waist. Hans, noticing her discomfort, lightened his hold and shifted his hand upwards slightly, so it was nearer her back than her hips. Elsa glanced up at him, trying to force herself not to flush red in embarrassment, and gave a brief nod to indicate her thanks.

The song was a major-key waltz, the sort of dance Elsa had never really liked but had been required to learn as a girl. They danced in silent for several moments, before Hans chuckled. "What?" Elsa asked in a whisper.

"Now they're _really_ whispering," he said under his breath. He glanced around briefly. "And just as well, too. I think my brother was getting impatient."

"Your brother?"

"Agnar. No doubt he'll want to know how and why you agreed so easily to my proposal. This little show might appease him, at least for a few moments."

Again, silence, save for the strings and shuffling of feet. Finally, Hans commented, "You claim you don't dance, but truth be told, you are an excellent dancer, Queen Elsa."

"Is that so?" she said nonchalantly, but irritation flashed in her eyes. As he twirled her, he felt a swirl of cold against his fingers through the white gloves, followed by a sharp pain, and he let go with a quiet hiss. "You frostbit my fingers!" he snapped lowly.

"Did I? How clumsy of me," Elsa replied coolly, voice entirely unapologetic. In an undertone, she added, "You _said_ you weren't going to enjoy it."

"Well I'm certainly not _now,"_ he retorted, taking her hand again and leading her three steps backwards.

There was a slight pause, and then someone bumped into him from behind. He and Elsa broke apart as a peasant woman who was dancing with her husband apologized, "Oh, pardon me, Prince Hans," giving him a polite, if reserved, smile.

"That's quite alright," he said, surprised. The other couple moved away, and as Hans and Elsa resumed dancing, he said, "I don't understand it."

"Understand what?"

"Your subjects. I expected them to be much more vocal about their displeasure at this whole prospect, but strangely enough, the townspeople don't seem to object to me too much."

"No, they don't," she agreed. "A few have expressed their…dissatisfaction…with the decision, but for the most part they seem to trust my better judgment." She paused, and then said, "…I think a few may even approve."

He looked at her in disbelief. "Approve? You aren't serious."

"It seems strange to me, too. But apparently one or two still think favorably of you, because of your help during the Great Freeze."

This took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Hans felt himself slightly uplifted. _His help._ People had survived that wintry disaster because of _his help._ He'd forgotten about that. "I'm glad," he said.

Elsa glanced up at him, biting her tongue. After a moment, she said, "What did you do?"

"Pardon?"

"I know you watched over Arendelle in Anna's and my absence, but… what exactly did you do for them?"

He shrugged. "Nothing you wouldn't have done. I opened up the castle; put the kitchens on making hot food; paid doctors for their help with the sick and injured; that sort of thing."

"You say it as if it were a small favor," she said, a little impressed despite herself.

"Well, I think I more than made up my good deeds with what happened on the fjord," he pointed out, glancing away.

"That you did," Elsa agreed. She hesitated, and then added, "…But you did take care of my subjects when they needed a leader…and, all things aside, I am...grateful, for that."

His lips quirked slightly at that, a sad smile but a smile nonetheless. "I do hope you know, Queen Elsa, that despite everything, there was nothing…_underhanded_, about my aiding your people."

"Now that," she said, in a voice that sounded strangely friendly, "I can believe."

The dance ended, and the two stepped apart. Hans gave a quick bow as Elsa curtsied. "I think we made our point," she murmured with satisfaction, glancing around at the nobles who were decidedly not meeting her gaze.

"I think we did," he agreed, offering her his arm. "Shall we walk?" When Elsa appeared to debate this, he said in a lower tone, "Agnar is watching us."

She didn't turn to look, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Southern king looking at them with a scrutinizing gaze. She took Hans's arm and said aloud, "You are a very good dancer."

"I told you I would be," he agreed, as she took his arm. Elsa saw Agnar glance away at this, and she let out a low sigh of relief.

She and Hans walked a ways away, heading towards the opposite side of the ballroom. Before they could reach it, however, they were stopped by three young men, all of whom bore a striking resemblance to the fourth at her side, although his hair was auburn and these three were all brown-haired.

"Well, look who it is," said the middle one. "Hans, we've hardly seen you all night."

"Then it appears my plan has worked perfectly until this point. Excuse us, gentlemen," Hans said, attempting to go around them.

"Now, now, brother, no need to be so _rude,"_ said the first and eldest. "Why, you haven't even introduced us to the Queen."

Hans was looking more and more aggravated, but he complied, turning to gesture to her. "This is Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Your Majesty, these are my brothers: Princes Helge, Ivar, and Jens."

"I've heard stories of the queen, but I must say, Your Majesty, you're even lovelier in person," said the middle one—Ivar, she thought it was—as he took her hand and kissed her knuckles before she could object.

"Um- well, thank you," she said, trying not to let her disgust show on her face. "Now if you'll pardon us-"

"Yes, quite lovely indeed," said the first. She was quickly losing track of which was which, they all looked so much alike. "You must be a very happy man, Hans."

"Ecstatic," Hans answered curtly, with a charming smile but a glare in his eyes that could have burnt a hole through the wall.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. Why, I couldn't blame you if you kissed her right now."

Elsa's mouth dropped open, and she barely restrained herself from frosting over the floors in shock. "I beg your pardon?" she demanded.

"Surely it wouldn't be too forward; after all, you _are_ engaged," one of his brothers, Elsa couldn't remember which, said with a chuckle.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jens; she's obviously got no real interest in him," the second jeered. "It's a political marriage; contracts and all that."

"Well, that's all you were ever good for, Hans," the first said dismissively.

"You two are killing the party; I want to see if little Hany-kins has it in him," Jens taunted. "What do you say we make wagers, hm? Ten _kroner*_ says he chickens out?"

"I'm in," the second said. "Well, go on, Hans; do I get my money?"

By this point Elsa had flushed a deep hue of magenta, though whether from anger or embarrassment, no one could tell. Hans looked even more furious; he had a tick in his clenched jaw that wasn't going away. "Whatever happens will remain between the Queen and myself," he said shortly. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have more important matters to attend to."

He turned sharply and led Elsa away. As they left, she heard one of them say, "See? I knew he wouldn't. He never had the guts."

"What a happy marriage _theirs_ is going to be," the second agreed with a laugh.

The moment they were far enough away, Hans let out an exasperated sigh. "Your Majesty, I apologize for my brothers."

"Apology accepted," she said, the blush still evident on her cheeks and now of an angrier tint. "They're certainly…unpleasant."

He snorted humorlessly. "That's one way of putting it." He nodded towards another pair of young men, who were older in age than the three and had identical features. "Those two, Caspar and Duartr, are third and fourth in line—twins, and hard to tell apart unless you know them. They're definitely more serious, but no less unpleasant. Balthazar—he's second in line, I forgot to mention him—he usually rallies them into helping him do Agnar's dirty work—oh, excuse me, his 'bidding.' The three you met are Helge, Ivar and Jens. Tricksters and scoundrels, every one."

"Seem like your lot," Elsa commented.

"Hardly," he snorted. "Those three lack the brains to be 'my lot' in anything. They're terribly uncreative but incredibly persistent."

Something about this triggered a memory in her mind. "Were they the three who pretended you were invisible?"

He looked over, surprised. "Anna told you about that?"

"Anna tells me everything." She refrained from pointing out that the same wasn't always true in reverse.

"Ah. Yes, that was them. They gave me the silent treatment for two years; how incredibly original, right?" he said, rolling his eyes. "Not that I minded; they weren't exactly great conversationalists. Still aren't, actually."

There was something about the off-handed way he said this that made Elsa less inclined to believe him. A terrific liar Hans may have been, but Elsa was a learned deceiver herself, and she knew that everyone, including her, had a tell, and strangely enough, it seemed that Hans's was that he sounded smoother and _more_ unaffected the more he lied. In other words, he was too good to be true. _How_ _fitting,_ she decided with an dry inward chuckle.

"Erling and Frederick follow the twins; they're in charge of trade affairs, both courting princesses in southern Europe. Gunnar's commander of the entire Southern military—" Elsa spotted a brawny-looking man some ways to the side, who was laughing uproariously with some other dignitaries, "—so technically he was in charge of me for some time. He's practically engaged to a duchess in France. Then Helge, Ivar and Jens, and then Karl. He's a ladies' man; he's probably at the punch bowl- there he is," he said with a nod, glancing towards the refreshment table, where a very handsome prince was surrounded by a gaggle of fawning bachelorettes. "He has any number of princesses and court ladies just dying for his proposal. And that's Lief," he added, gesturing to the last, a young man closer in age than most of the rest and standing off to the side, as if uncertain of his place. "The second youngest. Fairly quiet; I never minded him much. And then me."

"Are none of them married?" Elsa questioned, finding this odd with such a large family.

Hans shook his head. "It's Southern tradition that the king marries first, and none of my _dear_ brothers would dare cross Agnar."

"Except you."

He nodded wryly. "Except me."

"They're all in alphabetical order," she noted. The _but not you_ went unsaid, yet Hans caught it anyway.

"All my brothers are named after some long-dead family member. I was a bit of a surprise; the court doctors had told mother she wouldn't be able to have any more children. I was born quite early, too, so they hadn't found a name for me yet; mother decided on Johannes because she liked it, and that was that."

Elsa looked as if she were about to say something more, before she realized they'd made a full circle of the ballroom. "Do you think we've sated your brother's concern?" she asked under her breath.

Hans surreptitiously glanced back at Agnar, who was conversing with some nobles from another country. "I believe so. You won't have to tolerate my presence any longer, Your Majesty," he added, but strangely enough, he didn't sound sarcastic. If anything, he sounded…apologetic?

She cleared her throat. "Good evening, Prince Hans." She turned and headed in the direction of Kristoff and her sister, who had just reentered the great hall.

Hans watched her go, and then bit his tongue, turning. Agnar was watching him again. He quickly crossed the distance between them as Agnar banished the nobles with a polite word. When the area around them was relatively clear, Agnar said, "Well, Hans?"

"The Queen is hardly happy about the matter, but she's compliant," he reported, watching Elsa talk to Anna and the princess's suitor.

"Tell me, how _did_ you manage to convince her to accept the proposal?" Agnar questioned nonchalantly.

"I did what you asked; why does it matter how I accomplished it?"

"Don't trifle with me, Hans," Agnar said, turning to look at him with a dangerous sharpness in his eyes. "This isn't a game. You would do well to remember your position."

Hans felt his stomach twist, but he kept his composure. "Of course, your Majesty."

"Very good. Now: how exactly did you manage to gain her affections in the space of a single night?"

"You overcomplicate things, my king," Hans said simply, scanning the dance floor. "I didn't have to woo the queen; all I had to do was convince her that it was in her best political interest to make her agree."

Agnar raised an eyebrow. "Did you now?"

"Please. Did you think she came up with that reasoning she gave to the council on her own? The queen is an utter fool, untested in the ways of court life, and easily manipulated. She doesn't have to fall in love with me; she just has to believe she's doing the right thing."

"Hm." The elder of the pair seemed to be considering this. "Well, I'll admit, Hans, I'm slightly impressed. But it's not enough."

"Pardon?"

"I want the Queen's trust—and that means you have to make her trust _you._ So romance her. Enchant her. If she is truly a fool, then it should be an easy task. Am I understood?"

Green looked into green, and neither betrayed anything. "Impeccably," Hans answered.

Agnar smiled. "Good." He turned and walked away, leaving Hans wondering who exactly was deceiving whom.

* * *

*****_**Krone:**_** a unit of Norwegian and Danish currency, consisting of one hundred **_**øre**_**; similar to a pound, euro or dollar. (Plural: **_**kroner).**_


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: So I decided to post a Sunday-set chapter on an actual Sunday! I know it's earlier than usual, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!**

**A/N 2: So I wrote that original Author's Note back in 2014. Odd coincidence.**

* * *

Sunday morning after the ball dawned bright, cold and clear. Anna grimaced as the sunlight streamed in through her window and curled up tighter under the covers.

_Tunk-tunk-tunk,_ came the knock on the door. That was puzzling, because Kai didn't usually knock, but rather spoke through the door. "Mm-hm…?" she mumbled, only half asleep.

"Anna? It's me. You up yet?"

"Huh?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Kristoff?"

"Uh, yeah. Who else would it be?" Kristoff said with a chuckle from the other side of the door. "You getting up?"

"Mm…"

He heard her trail off, and then a snore. He grinned and shook his head; Anna was the worst at getting up in the morning. "Anna, you've gotta get up or you'll be late."

"Mm… tell them… I'll go tomorrow…"

"Aw, c'mon, Feistypants." At her lack of answer, he decided to lay down his ace. "The kitchen made hot chocolate."

There was a pause, and then the shuffling of feet. When the door opened, a yawning Anna with terrible bedhead was rubbing her eyes and blinking up at him. "Okay," she sighed. "You win."

He grinned. "I always do."

* * *

"Your Majesty?" a voice said from the hall side of her bedroom door.

"Come in, Kai," Elsa called, not turning from the mirror as she pinned her twin braids up into a coronet. The door opened, and the head footman peeked his head in.

"Just checking to make sure you were awake, your Majesty. Although I don't know why I bother," he said with a chuckle. "You're always up on time. Just like your father; he never could sleep past eight in the morning."

Elsa smiled. "Papa always was an early riser." She turned. "Is Anna up?"

"I let Sir Kristoff wake her."

"And the visiting dignitaries?"

"I've set the other footmen on it, m'Lady."

"Good, good." She bit her lip, fixing a loose strand in her hair. Her whole demeanor seemed absent-minded and nervous.

Kai noticed and frowned. "Your Majesty, if you don't mind me asking, you seem…well, rather flustered."

"I'm fine," she said, sounding quite weary although it was only nine in the morning.

Kai knew she was lying, but didn't intrude. "Yes, m'Lady." He turned to go, and then hesitated. "Your Majesty…Queen Elsa." She looked over at him, surprised. "You don't have to go through with this. The contract can be broken; no one would blame you in the slightest."

"I know, Kai," she said with a sigh. "I do. But I have to do what is best for Arendelle."

"I know, but the thought of you, marrying that terrible man–" He stopped suddenly, realizing he'd stepped out of his place. "My apologies, m'Lady. I forgot myself."

"It's alright." She gave him a tired smile. "I'll see you at the church, Kai."

He inclined his head. "Yes, m'Lady." He left.

As the door closed, Elsa sighed and looked around. For more than a year, she had felt free and accepted and content. Now, it was as if she were being forced back into a cage of fear and secrecy. She hated it. She'd learned the hard way that honesty was the best policy.

_Except when being honest could end up killing you. You can do this, Elsa. _She straightened her back. _Hans was right. You're a master of concealment. _Then a slight frown. _You shouldn't be proud of that. Don't let his duplicity rub off on you._

She sighed, straightened her crown and waved her hand, creating a snowflake-lace veil beneath it and two lace gloves. _All right. Let's put on a show._

* * *

Although it was only nine-thirty and half an hour until the Mass officially started, the church was not entirely empty. Not that one could tell simply by glancing in, since the space was silent and not even the bishop had entered it yet.

It was the first real peace and quiet Hans had found in days, and he was more than happy to take advantage of it. After spending a year and a half in solitary confinement, the prince was fatigued by being suddenly shoved back into the largely hostile public eye. The silence of the large room, the stillness, was a balm to his troubled mind, although it was accompanied by a twinge of guilt that told him he really didn't belong here.

Unfortunately, the peace and quiet did not last as long as he would have liked, for at around nine forty-five or so, people began to enter the church. Quickly, he retreated to the back of the choir loft, in the corner between one of the arching supports and the wall. The space was slightly darker and allowed him to be easily hidden in the shadows, and from there he watched the people come in.

The first, of course, was the royal family and the princess's chosen suitor, a man whom Hans recognized but of whom he couldn't quite remember the name. Anna had donned a deep russet dress and followed her suitor inside, who apparently had cleaned himself up a bit for Sunday church. Elsa was the third to enter, wearing an indigo-and-violet dress, as well as a chapel veil and gloves she'd appeared to have made herself. Much to Hans's surprise, Elsa, Anna and the young man didn't take the front right pew, as would be expected from royalty; instead, they sat down somewhere in the middle, with the suitor and queen on either side of the princess.

Following them were several young men, all dressed in tailcoats and shiny boots. Hans snorted quietly to himself. Not a one of his brothers could be called "pious" in any sense of the word; he hadn't seen them set foot inside a church for years and was certain they were only doing it to appear trustworthy to the queen. His brothers, of course, took the opportunity to sit in the very front, and the youngest prince couldn't help roll his eyes. Then, he frowned, noticing something. "One, two, three…"

Eleven. Not twelve, but eleven. He scanned the row, trying to see who was missing. It didn't take long to realize that the only royal not present was the eldest, King Agnar. Hans pondered this for a moment, and then disregarded it with a shrug.

After them there entered dozens of noblemen and women from visiting countries, and then the townspeople took their seats. By the time the bishop (the same one who'd crowned Elsa two summers ago, he noticed) started the Mass, the little stave church was packed to bursting, having swelled to twice its normal congregation size.

There was no choir to fill the loft that day, so nobody noticed that Hans was present, for which he was grateful. The old Latin he'd once known, now half-forgotten through disuse, was oddly soothing, and he closed his eyes.

…_"Shh, shh…"_

_The little boy stopped fidgeting and looked up at his mother. The queen with dark hair and green eyes smiled at her youngest son. "Hush, Hans, you must be very quiet," she whispered. "Or the good bishop will forget the words! We wouldn't want that, would we?"_

_Hans pouted. "But I'm _bored."

_"Hm. I can fix that. Here; let me show you a game." She clasped her hands as if praying, but with her fingers on the inside. "Here is the church," she said, showing him her folded hands. "And here is the steeple." She put her two pointer fingers up into a triangle. "Open the doors…" She moved her thumbs apart, and Hans peered in delight. "And see all the people!" She waggled her fingers._

_Hans gasped. "Show me, show me!"_

_"Shh," she whispered again, and he quickly quieted down. She did it for him once more, and then Hans clasped his own hands and copied her actions. She nodded and smiled, and then went back to listening to the sermon as the boy repeated the simple little poem over and over in his head, until he was finally satisfied…_

"Amen," the crowd murmured in unison, and Hans opened his eyes, startled. How long had he been asleep? He peered over the congregation nervously, but nobody appeared to have noticed him, and he sat back again, eyes shifting about self-consciously.

_Mother..._ As the congregation began to sing an old half-recognized hymn, he settled into the pew. The world trailed off in his head; even if his mother had been there, he wouldn't have known what to say to her. Still...it was nice, to be in a place he could picture her having been.

He must've dozed off for quite some time, because the Mass was over shortly thereafter, and the people filed out of the back. Hans watched as Elsa thanked the bishop and then walked out the church doors, banishing her snowflake veil with a wave of her hand.

He heard the doors close and leaned back against the pew he was sitting in, glad that he hadn't been spotted. All he had left to do was wait a few minutes until everyone was gone, and then leave unnoticed. So preoccupied was he with this plan that he didn't even notice the slight tap of footsteps ascending the loft's stairs, or the figure that reached the top of them, until he heard a voice say, "Hello, son."

Hans started and turned, surprised. The bishop was looking back at him, an eyebrow raised. "Oh. Um-" He quickly got to his feet. "Sorry. I know I'm not supposed to be up here."

"No, that's quite alright. Although you know, people are bound to think you suspicious if you keep lurking in the shadows."

Hans couldn't help but chuckle ruefully at this. "And I suppose my having tried to kill the queen I'm now engaged to doesn't help, either?"

The bishop smiled wryly. "No, it doesn't." He nodded towards the open nave of the church below. "I noticed you didn't sit down with the others."

"I don't belong with the others." He looked around the wooden church, now empty. "I don't belong in here at all."

Willum let out a small sigh through his nose. There was silence for a moment, and then the bishop said softly, "…But the tax collector, standing far off, would not so much as lift up his eyes towards Heaven; but struck his breast, saying: 'O God, be merciful to me a sinner.' I say to you, this man went down into his house justified…" He smiled at Hans. "I'm not here to throw you out, son. If you wish, we could talk?"

Hans debated this, and the nodded ironically. "It would be good to talk to someone who doesn't seem like he wants to see me beheaded."

Willum chuckled a little. "That, young prince, is the very last thing I want to see." He nodded towards the pew. "Why don't we sit down? I have the feeling this may take a while."

* * *

The castle seemed oddly quiet when he returned, which was strange since it was housing so many extra people. He assumed that many of the nobles were either resting from their previous day's festivities or touring the town. Since Hans had no desire to do either at the moment, he took to exploring the castle.

The halls were empty, for the most part, which was good since he wasn't currently feeling inclined towards conversation. Eventually, his wanderings led him to a dusty old corridor, lined with doors on either side. He poked his head inside one and, and, upon finding it empty, entered it and shut the door behind him.

It was abandoned and dusty, just like the hall, and apparently hadn't been in use for many years. There was a desk, a bookshelf with trade negotiations from many years previous, a small side-table which displayed an old wooden chess set, and, oddly enough, no desk chair. With nothing better to do, he retrieved the chess set and placed it on the old carpet, sitting down beside it. Many an hour he had passed as a child playing himself at chess, when his far older brothers were too busy to bother and the younger ones too spiteful to care. He placed the last piece, and then opened by moving the right knight in towards a center square in front of the pawn row.

He was about halfway through a game and the white side was winning by a slim margin when the doors suddenly burst open. He stood, startled, as Elsa rushed into the room, dress fluttering madly as she slammed the door behind her, gulping down air. She turned and saw Hans staring at her, and quickly drew herself up. "Um, hello."

"Hello," he answered, just as surprised.

"Well, I- I suppose this looks rather strange, doesn-" She cut off suddenly, tilting her head as if she could hear something. Her eyes went wide, and she hurried over to the desk. "Don't tell them I'm here!" she whispered.

"What?"

"It's—just don't let them know!" She dove behind the desk. Hans looked back at the door, baffled and wondering who "they" could possibly be.

A moment later, his question was answered when one of the queen's political advisors burst into the study. "Oh," he said, drawing short when he saw Hans standing there. "Er, greetings, Prince Hans." His tone was polite but contained a note of hostility. "Have you seen the queen?"

"Queen Elsa? I'm afraid I haven't; why?" he lied smoothly.

"Ah. Well. She seems to be nowhere to be found; I need to speak with her on a _very _important matter."

"Oh? What sort of matter?"

The man appeared to visibly restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "Nothing that requires _your_ attention, young prince_._ Well, if you see her, do inform a servant for me?"

"Naturally. Have a good day."

A little miffed at having been unofficially dismissed by the prince, the lord swept out of the study, slamming the doors behind him. Elsa peeked out her head from behind the desk. "Is he gone?"

Hans listened, and then nodded. "He's walking away. I don't blame you for hiding." He wrinkled his nose and pulled his lips down, imitating the lord's face and tone as he said, "'Nothing that requires _your _attention, young prince.' He must be a real joy at palace parties."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that. "That's a fair imitation, actually."

"It's a talent. Why were you avoiding him? Other than the obvious dislike of having to hold a conversation with him."

She huffed, annoyed. "He and the others want me to discuss some silly wheat barrels that went missing on one of the trade ships. Six days a week I sign papers, negotiate trade, deal with petty squabbles and listen to their complaints! But goodness forbid the Queen have one day out of seven to catch her breath!" She suddenly remembered to whom she was speaking and cleared her throat. "But that's official business." She glanced around. "What exactly _are_ you doing in here?"

He nodded to the chess set on the ground. "Playing chess."

"Against yourself?" she questioned, walking over.

"Obviously. Don't you?"

"Well of course, occasionally…" She chuckled again. "The only problem is that no matter what, I always lose."

"Ah, my condolences. You see, _I_ always win."

She smiled a little, and he thought that it wasn't so bad of a smile—certainly much better than her scowl. "I suppose it is all a matter of mindset, isn't it?" She turned towards the door as if to leave. "I'd best be going."

"I wouldn't, if I were you," he advised idly, moving a rook.

"Why?"

"Do you really want to go out where they might find you again? They won't research this room, but if you leave you risk being caught."

Elsa appeared to debate this, and then sighed. "I suppose I'd better stay here for at least a little while, until I can get away safely." She looked around the room, which was fairly bare, aside from a few chairs, a fire and a bookshelf of old trade records. "Although it seems there isn't much to do…" She noticed the chess set again, and both glanced at each other. After a moment, she sighed and sat down. He did the same.

They reset the pieces and then began to play, Elsa moving first since she was playing white. Within five minutes, he had taken her queen, both knights, several pawns, the left rook and had her king trapped. "Checkmate," he said calmly, reaching across the board to tip over the piece.

She glared at him icily. "Rematch."

But much to her dismay, he won again.

And again.

And again.

After his fifth win, she gave a disgruntled sigh and began to pack up the pieces into their wooden box. He raised an eyebrow. "No rematch this time?"

"No. I know when I've been beat." She eyed him shrewdly. "Where did you learn to play like that?"

"My brothers and I were all taught chess professionally. It was meant to increase strategic abilities and critical thinking."

"Oh." The room temperature had suddenly dropped a few degrees, and both knew he'd said the wrong thing. As memories of exactly _how_ strategic he could be flooded their minds, each looked anywhere but at the other.

Hans was the first to recover, getting to his feet and taking great care not to meet the queen's gaze as he headed for the door. "I should go."

"No." He turned back, surprised. She, too, was startled at how strong her own voice sounded, but she continued. "No, don't. If we're going to work together, then we have to learn to tolerate at least being in the same room as each other." She smiled dryly. "After all, what's the use in planning treason if you can't even stand speaking to your co-conspirator?"

"That does seem somewhat unreasonable," he agreed grudgingly. "That reminds me, I have something important to tell you: I told the bishop."

She stared. "What?"

"The bishop; I informed him that the wedding was fake. Confidentially, of course. He says his help is ours, if we want it. He seemed trustworthy; I hope I wasn't mistake about that."

"You weren't; Bishop Willum has long been a good friend to the crown—and to me. I wonder why I didn't think of telling him my-" She yawned suddenly. "Myself."

She walked a few feet away to the window, fixing her hair for the nth time in the reflection of the glass. As Hans watched, he realized that she had purplish rings under her eyes, and her whole demeanor appeared exhausted. He couldn't blame her; his own experience had taught him that treason and lies led to many a sleepless night, though perhaps not for exactly the same reasons. "You need to rest," he informed her.

"What?" she said, turning.

"You need to rest. It's obvious you didn't sleep a wink last night."

"Since when did you suddenly start caring about my well-being?" she retorted, annoyed at being told what to do.

"Since it started affecting _my_ ability to keep my head on my shoulders. Not to mention _your own."_

In response, he got a fistful of snow to the face. When he managed to wipe it away, spluttering, he saw Elsa's angry glare. "What was that for?!" he demanded, furious.

"Oh, I don't know; maybe just a veritable threat from the man who I ought to have locked up in the dungeons the moment I saw him? You have some nerve," she snapped. "That or a death wish."

"Well if you want to kill me, you'll have to take a number; my execution schedule's pretty full," he shot back.

"Look at you. You haven't changed a bit," she said through gritted teeth.

"You're one to talk."

"Traitor!"

"Ice Queen!"

They glared at each other for a long moment, before Elsa sighed. "Tolerate each other, right? Looks like we're off to a great start."

"No kidding." He paused, and then said, "Allow me to rephrase that: you look tired, and understandably so. It would be _beneficial_ for you to get some rest."

She stopped herself from rolling her eyes and played along. "Your suggestion is…reasonable—" She almost stopped right there at the slightly superior smile he developed, but continued, "—and I will take it to heart."

"There. Now was that so hard?" he said patronizingly.

"Like pulling teeth." She bit her tongue and tried again. "I think I'll go take a nap."

Seeing that she was making an effort, Hans decided it was his turn to be civil. "I'll go first and check for that annoying lord," he offered. "If I don't come back in two minutes, it means you're clear." He headed for the doors.

"Hans," Elsa said, on impulse. He glanced back. "Were…were your brothers really going to behead you?"

"Well, they were going to have me hung," he answered, in that terribly nonchalant voice, "but, you know, same difference."

Elsa shuddered unconsciously. Arendelle didn't employ capital punishment, but she knew there were other countries that did. To sentence your own brother to death…she could never, not in a million _years,_ imagine doing that to Anna. No matter what.

"Don't worry, your Majesty" he added grimly. "They might still get their chance." And before she could reply, he'd left.

* * *

The town was covered in a fluffy layer of snow, which was surprisingly small despite the fact that it was late November. Olaf laughed and skipped around, kicking at the little snow piles. He loved summer to death, of course, but he'd learned to adore winter, too. _After all,_ he thought to himself happily, _winter means candy canes and Christmas trees and, oh, oh, more snowmen! _Everyone needed friends, and although Elsa had wisely decided not to build any more living snowmen (after all, creating life was a talent to be taken seriously), her slightly goofy creation liked to make imaginary friends, especially if his real ones happened to be busy at the moment.

That was what he was about to do now. As Olaf went around an emptier part of the village looking for twigs for arms, humming a tune he'd heard somewhere but couldn't quite remember the words to, he found a series of footprints leading to a quiet square. Gasping with delight, he hurried off in their direction.

When he heard the voices, he intended to walk right out into the middle of the town square, but stopped as he realized that the voices weren't happy ones. Confused, Olaf crept forward and peeked his head around a brick wall.

There in the center of the square, just in front of a frozen-over fountain, were two figures. One he recognized as the Southern King, but the other was, well… _scary._

It was really weird, Olaf decided as he pulled back and hid himself against a wall, listening to the conversation, because that woman looked so much like Elsa, and yet so _different._ Her skin wasn't just pale; it was practically white as snow. Even her hair was white, and her eyes and lips almost free of color. When she spoke, her tone wasn't warm like Elsa's; instead, it was biting and icy, and he felt sure that if he could feel cold, he would have shivered.

"-This is getting ridiculous. You've been here for over a week; surely you must have found something by now!"

"I'm only following your instructions," the king ground out. "If something is amiss-"

"If something is amiss, it is because _you_ are an incompetent _fool_ who cannot accomplish even this simple task!"

"This is hardly a walk in the courtyard!"

Her face was furious. "I'll remind you," she hissed, "That I have collected thousands of these shards on my own; I would have though you capable of finding a measly three pieces! And if you cannot fulfill your end of the bargain, then I have no obligation to fulfill _mine._ Are we clear?"

"Crystal," the king answered, although his voice sounded testy and short.

She sighed, still clearly irritated. "Luckily for you, I can sense that there is a shard somewhere nearby, but I can't tell exactly where. I need you to find it. When you do, summon me and I will return to collect it."

"Of course." Olaf heard a roaring, whistling sort of sound, like a blizzard, and then the king came walking back through. Olaf instinctively pressed his little snow body against the wall, holding his breath. He breathed a sigh of relief when the king had passed him by without noticing him, and then peeked his head around the wall. His mouth dropped open.

The woman was gone!


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work. And yes, the scene in the middle was one of the outtakes I adapted to fit this fic.**

**A/N: Anna and Kristoff's wedding is set three days before Christmas, i.e., the 22nd. In this story, I'm having advent last exactly four weeks since that's easier to count, meaning the day at the beginning of this chapter is Nov 28th. I know that counteracts what I wrote in an earlier chapter; I've since changed it.**

* * *

"Anna, how long until I can make official decrees?"

The princess grinned and looked up at her suitor, who was staring grumpily down at a trade ledger. "Let me see, um…" She pretended to count in her head.

"Twenty-four days," Elsa said, not looking up from her forms. "She has a countdown in her room."

Anna grinned impishly. "It's true. Why do you ask?"

"I was going to ban Mondays," he groused. The three were sitting in their respective desks in the library, doing their separate piles of paperwork. Kristoff's was significantly smaller than Anna's, and theirs combined didn't even reach the top of Elsa's. The queen was peering through her half-moon reading glasses, which were perched precariously on the tip of her nose, as she methodically signed and sealed at least a dozen letters.

"Oh, don't hate Mondays, Kristoff!" Anna said with a smile. "They're a whole one-seventh of your life!"

"Can I still hate filling out ledgers? These things are giving me a headache." He rubbed his temples as he squinted down at the tiny ledger boxes. "I can hardly see the letters anymore."

Elsa glanced up at this in surprise, and then stood up and walked over. "Do you always squint like that when you read?"

"Huh?" He looked up, startled.

"Just—go back to what you were doing for a moment." He did so, and she nodded. "I thought so. Here; try these." She took off her own glasses and handed them to him.

He took them and looked at them dubiously. "I don't think these are going to help."

"Just try them, Kristoff," Anna urged.

"But-"

_"Kristoff."_

Her adorably fierce little frown won the battle, and Kristoff put on the glasses with a sigh. He started to read the ledgers again, and after a moment, looked up, annoyed. "Okay, what's your point?"

"You need eyeglasses," Elsa said simply, taking her pair back from him. "Anna can go with you to the town to help you find a pair."

"What? No; I'm good," he protested.

"Oh c'mon, Kristoff; it'll be fun!" Anna urged.

"Seriously, Anna, I'm fine."

"Are you worried you'll look silly? Because I'm sure we can find you a pair that'll fit fine."

"I'm not worried about looking silly!" he exclaimed. Anna blinked, surprised, and he relented slightly. "Look, glasses are expensive and I don't want you to have to pay for them."

"Why not?" she said, looking genuinely confused.

Her befuddlement was so endearing that Kristoff couldn't help smiling a little, despite his embarrassment "Because you already do so much for me, and I feel like I never give anything back to you," he explained honestly. "I know you think that sounds dumb, but it's the truth. Besides, I've gotten along fine without them for the last twenty years. I don't want you footing that kind of a bill for me when I really don't need them."

"Actually, Kristoff, Anna won't be 'footing the bill'; I will," Elsa explained. "As your employer, I'm obliged provide the minimum tools required for you to do your job." When he still looked doubtful, she added, "It's not a handout; it's a necessity of your work. If you can't even do your monthly totals without getting a migraine, then glasses _are_ a necessity."

He appeared to debate this inwardly, and then pointed to Elsa. "You're _sure_ it's not a handout."

"Kristoff, the ice harvesters have never been more productive than under your supervision, nor, it seems, more satisfied. You're an efficient businessman who's making me a lot of money while keeping me on good terms with the people; trust me, this is just good business."

"Great! Let's go!" Anna said excitedly, grabbing him by the arm. Kristoff followed willingly, unable to keep from grinning. Anna's happiness was contagious- and besides, anything had to be better than ledgers.

* * *

"…And here. Try these."

The optometrist handed him a pair of round glasses. Kristoff tried them on and looked in the little vanity mirror the doctor had provided.

He looked like a bug-eyed idiot.

Anna winced as he looked up at her with his _you've got to be kidding me_ expression. "Do you happen to have anything less, um-"

"Ridiculous looking?" Kristoff finished as he took off the spectacles, having lost most of his patience over the course of the last hour.

"We're just looking for a pair of reading glasses," Anna amended.

The optometrist, a skinny man with rather large eyes of his own, huffed and said, "I'll see what we have in the back." He disappeared into the anterior of the shop, and Kristoff took off the glasses.

"I wonder if he keeps all the good stuff in the back," the ice-harvester muttered just loud enough for Anna to hear. The princess clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

Apparently this was an accurate assumption, because a minute later the doctor came back and handed him a pair of squarish half-rimmed glasses. Kristoff tried them on, and then looked up at Anna. She squealed.

"Oh, you look so _cute!"_ she said happily.

"See, I liked them until you said that."

"Oh, hush. We'll take them."

They walked out of the shop with Anna bubbling with glee. "Try them on again!"

"Are you kidding?" Kristoff said with a laugh. "I'm not wearing these in public!"

"Oh come on!"

"Nuh-uh. These remain our little secret. I'm not wearing them except when I've got to do ledgers." At her disappointed pout, he added grudgingly, "…And maybe every once in a while to dinner, since you like them so much."

Anna was just agreeing animatedly to this when all her jumping around caused her to crash into another pedestrian, knocking him down. "Oh! Sorry-!" she called, and then stopped. _"You."_

Hans stood and dusted himself off. "Apologies, Princess; I didn't see you there."

"You didn't, my–" Kristoff started, but Anna cut him off, holding up a hand with a look that clearly said, _I got this._

"What are _you_ doing out _here?"_ she said icily, and there was a fierceness in her eyes that made even Kristoff shiver slightly. Only when Anna was really, _really_ angry did she ever become this hostile.

To his credit, Hans held his composure unblinkingly. "I was under the impression I was free to walk about the town."

"Yeah, well, if I had my way, you wouldn't be free to do _anything_ except wallow in prison for the rest of your sorry life," she said coldly. "Just so we're _totally_ clear."

There was a moment's silence, and then Hans inclined his head slightly. "I understand, Princess. Again, my apologies." He gave a short bow, and then walked around her and left.

Kristoff glanced back at him, and then over to his irate fiancé. Anna was still fuming, her face flushed red with anger. Kristoff whistled. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Yeah, well, so long as you don't stomp on my heart and then try to kill my sister, we should be just fine," Anna said furiously. Then, she shook her head, red braids swinging. "Sorry. Let's not let one creep spoil the whole day, huh?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

The town was alive with buzz and sunshine, even despite the cold time of year, but King Agnar noticed none of it.

The Snow Queen had said that there was a shard nearby, one that had not been here before. That could only mean it had arrived with one of the nobles. It made sense; after all, the little fragments were terribly powerful, as he well knew, and powerful people naturally gravitated towards powerful objects. When his own father, the late king, had died, the old man's body had been burnt to a cinder before they could prepare it for the funeral. The Snow Queen had arrived shortly thereafter and taken the shard again, to wherever she kept them all. Agnar pondered briefly on the possibility that the fiery shard in the little box, hidden in a little box in his pocket until he received permission to use it, could have been that which his father had held; then, he dismissed the idea. So what if it was? It hardly mattered in the long scheme of things.

In any case, he returned his thoughts to where this new shard could possibly be. If the lord or lady who possessed it realized its potential, it would be hidden in the castle, no doubt; if not, then perhaps it had been put to some other purpose?

This thought was confirmed almost as soon as he'd had it, for inside the little silver box in his inner jacket pocket, the shard _burned._ Even through his clothes he could feel the metal turning warm, and smiled, knowing that the other shard had to be somewhere near.

He glanced around. There were several shops, any of which could contain the person who held the demon glass. His eyes landed on the jeweler's shop, and headed in that direction on impulse.

Inside the shop, a noblewoman was talking to the shop-owner. "I need this refitted _before_ the wedding," she said, nose held high. "It is incredibly important that my request be met."

"What seems to be the problem?" the jeweler asked.

"Why, can't you tell?" She sounded indignant. "This necklace is a _family heirloom;_ it's been in my mother's family for centuries! But the strangest thing has happened since I arrived here; the silver around the middle gem has been wearing thin. The stone itself is poking through!"

"I will attempt to see what I can do, Madame," the jeweler said, trying to placate her.

"Hm. Well. I'll be back before the twenty-second." She walked out of the shop, and as Agnar pretended to inspect some pieces in a showcase, he glanced over at the necklace.

It was silver, of course, with several blue gems lining the collar. The middle jewel, however, was different; it was thin and encased all the way around with silver, and was of a different color and luster. The light refracted off it in such a way that it almost seemed to glow, a cold, harsh blue. Agnar felt the box burn hot again. _That was it._

"Your majesty!" The king looked up to see the jeweler bowing deeply. "Welcome to my humble shop. Is there anything I could help you find?"

He gave a joyless smile. "You could say that." He gestured to the door. "I couldn't help but overhear the madam who was in here last. I'm something of an amateur jewelry myself; may I see the necklace?"

"Certainly, I suppose."

Agnar wandered over. There were rules about the shards, he had learned from the Queen: trickery, cunning and persuasion were allowed in their pursuit, but one could not steal them outright, or their power would refuse to obey its false master. "And what sorts of stones are these?"

"Oh, sapphire, I expect, blue diamonds would be too–" Then the jeweler paused. "My word." He leaned closer. "I do believe someone has replaced the stone on the end there with glass."

"My word, really?" It was _so_ hard to keep a straight face.

"The madam will be _so_ displeased; I must inform her at once." The shopkeeper made to leave.

"Tell her that the King of the Southern Isles would be honored to pay for the cost of replacing it."

The jeweler bowed. "I am sure her ladyship will be most grateful, sir." He hurried out the door. Agnar smiled.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it! Please review, and have a good morning, folks!**


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products.**

* * *

With so many people staying in one castle, Hans was finding it almost claustrophobic if he didn't leave every day to go walk around the town. Supporting Elsa's theory that the villagers were somewhat less displeased about his maneuvering for the throne than the foreign aristocrats, he found that the townspeople usually didn't treat him to anything worse than general dislike. The Arendellians were a thoroughly polite people, and even when pushed to their wits' ends, they seemingly preferred to avoid confronting him directly and simply didn't speak to him unless he spoke to them first. The nobles, on the other hand, afforded him no mercy in their condescension, missing no opportunity to mock him publicly in their highbrow manner.

It was for this reason that he was planning on going out into the town again that Tuesday at noon. He didn't notice as he put on his gray overcoat when a figure appeared in the doorway behind him. "Going out?"

He turned. Agnar was looking back at him, eyes calculating. Hans suddenly felt like a small child again, shrinking under his eldest brother's cold scorn. He quickly looked away, buttoning his coat. "I am. What's it to you?"

"You're wasting valuable time." Agnar strode into the room, eyes flashing. "I told you to romance the queen."

"The queen is not easily romanced."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

Hans considered lying, but decided against it. "…Sunday."

"So you have gone two days without so much as seeing her?" Hans opened his mouth to reply, but Agnar cut him off. "I have no desire to hear your feeble excuses. Either you get to work, or I start making things difficult."

Hans wanted to lash back, but he bit his tongue. "Understood…my King."

"I'm glad to hear it." Agnar turned on his heels and left.

Hans glared in his direction, and then ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed. When he was quite sure Agnar was gone, he went off in search of Queen Elsa.

He found her in her section of the library, although she seemed to be taking a break from her work and was reading a book. She looked up as he approached but waited for him to speak. Hans took a seat in the armchair beside her and said, "We need to talk."

"I assumed as much," she replied, taking off her glasses and setting them on the side table. "Is there some sort of trouble?"

He glanced around and then said in a lower voice, "Agnar isn't as pleased with my 'progress' as I'd hoped."

"I've already agreed to marriage; what more does he want?" she demanded.

"Frankly? Your trust. Or rather, your trust in me, and in him by extension."

"What are you hinting at?"

Hans rolled his eyes. "He's ordered me to romance you."

Elsa snorted. "He has high ambitions."

"He isn't kidding, your Majesty. Either I provide him with some concrete evidence that we're forming a relationship, or else."

"Or else what?"

"He didn't specify," he answered grimly.

Elsa closed the book, sighing in annoyance. "Alright, so romance. What's romantic?"

"Don't look at me," he said defensively. "I don't know the first thing about romance."

"You're the one who conned my sister into thinking you were Prince Charming," she pointed out testily.

"That wasn't romance; that was listening to what she had to say and telling her what she wanted to hear. My brother isn't as naïve as your sister; we're going to need something more realistic than that."

"Well, if you're clueless, I'm hopeless." She bit her lip hard, thinking. "What do ordinary people do when they're engaged?"

"My last engagement lasted four days. What do your sister and the iceman do?"

"Kristoff," she said sharply. "His name is Kristoff."

"Excuse me," he said sarcastically. "What do your sister and _Kristoff_ do?"

"I don't know—they spend time together, I guess. Walk around the town, eat lunch together, throw snow at each other…"

His face brightened. "Well, that isn't a bad idea."

"Having a snowball fight?" she said dubiously. "I think it'd be a little one-sided."

"Not that; walking the town. I was intending on doing so anyway."

"Do you think that'd work?" she said, frowning.

"It's worth a shot."

She debated this, and then sighed. "I was really enjoying this book."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you enjoy being alive even better." He stood up and offered his hand. Elsa regarded him with annoyance for a moment, and then placed her hand in his.

* * *

The day was cold but the wind was still, so the town was full of life and laughter. Children ran in the streets, pelting each other with snowballs. Elsa smiled as she saw them, stifling a laugh by pressing a hand to her mouth.

"Hey, look! It's Queen Elsa!" one of them said excitedly, running over. The children crowded around eagerly, and she greeted them with a smile.

"I have a surprise for you," she said happily. With a wave of her fingers, an ice-skating rink appeared in the center of the square, and the children gasped with delight. Another wave caused crystal-clear ice skates to appear on their feet, causing a few "Oh-ohs!" as the children wobbled. One of them toppled over, and the queen "caught" him with a little pile of snow before he could fall on the hard ice.

The children thanked her profusely and quickly began to skate around, laughing and giggling. Elsa heard a chuckle from beside her and glanced over, and her smile faded as she remembered that she was not walking the town alone. Her companion noticed her sudden change in expression, and his own quickly fell. The pair quickly deteriorated into silence as they started to walk again.

Hans was taking the lead, even though he didn't really know the town. He and the queen had hardly spoken a word since they'd left the castle. It was one thing to do business; it was quite another to make small talk to the woman he'd once tried to behead. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and looking anywhere but at her, he took a right, and she followed wordlessly.

As they rounded the corner into the main square of the town, the sound of music met their ears. A children's choir, standing on a makeshift stage some ways away, was dutifully singing what seemed to be some sort of carol to the conduction of a gray-haired, sharp-nosed man.

"_Can't you hear the angels singing,_

_Bringing glad tidings of old?_

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

_Chapel bells are ringing_

_For the good news we have been told._

_Night is gone and day is coming,_

_No need to feel afraid or sad._

_God our Father_

_We thank you for your kindness._

_Rejoice! For all the world is glad."_

They continued on like this in a round for a time, until they finished. "Good. And, exeunt group," the director said snootily. "Narrators come downstage. With confidence!"

"We celebrate Christmas, as we do each year, and greet the babe like the angels did there," a nervous little young boy recited, and then sighed with relief when he realized he hadn't messed up.

"Who were these angels? What did they say?" A little girl chanted. "Well, that is the subject of our little play!"

"Where are my angels? I need my angels!"

"They're pretty good," Hans commented. He nodded down the street. "Shall we move on?"

"No, no," Elsa said, waving a hand at him impatiently, fixated on the children's performance. "Let's stay."

He frowned a little, confused, and then conceded with a shrug. They watched the children continue on through their make-shift nativity scene. After a few minutes, Hans cleared his throat. "I hate to rush you…"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," she apologized, finally pulling her gaze away. "I just wanted to watch a little. We can go."

As they continued to walk down, Hans commented, "I've never seen anyone so interested in a schoolchildren's pageant."

"I apologize for making you stop. I've just never seen one before," she explained.

"You've never seen a Christmas pageant?" he said, surprised.

"I've never seen a play."

He stopped and stared. Elsa glanced over, startled. "What?"

"You mean to tell me that you've read _Julius Caesar, Macbeth,_ all the greats—and you've never seen a _single play?"_

"I was busy!" she said defensively, crossing her arms.

"With what?"

"Studies. Lessons. I had things to do," she said shortly.

"So much to do that you never even had time to take the day off and see a play?"

"There's an awful lot to learn when you're going to take the throne!" she snapped, and then added spitefully, "Not that _you'd _know anything about that."

Hans fell silent. Uncomfortably, they began walking again. After a moment, Elsa sighed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "That…that was low."

"I can see I hit a nerve," he replied, carefully avoiding the unspoken questions of how or why.

After another slight pause, Elsa admitted, "…I wasn't… as busy as all that. I just… I rarely left the palace when I was younger."

"Why?"

She waved her hand, and a curl of snowflakes burst into the air in front of her. Hans nodded in understanding. "Ah. You had secrets to keep."

"I did. And it was easier to keep them inside the palace walls, where there were less surprises and interactions."

"And now?"

She shrugged. "And now, I don't have to hide." She stopped walking suddenly, her face changing as she sniffed the air. "Is that…?"

He noticed the scent, too. "…Chocolate."

"Ohh!" She suddenly noticed a store window a few ways down with little fudges and truffles in the display, and hurried over to it. "Oh my, they all look so good!"

"You like chocolate?" he said, surprised.

"Like it? I love it. And why do you look so shocked?"

"I was expecting you to like—I don't know, tea and crumpets, or something."

"Tea and crumpets?" she said, baffled. "I'm not DunBrochish, Hans. Anyways, I adore chocolate."

"Are you getting any?"

"Aren't you?"

Hans smiled sardonically. "I don't think he'd sell to me."

Elsa glanced at him, and then away again, biting her lip. After a moment, she said, "What do you want?"

"What?"

"What kind of chocolate do you want?"

He suddenly realized what she was asking. "That wasn't an invitation for your pity," he said curtly.

"Oh, would you give it a rest?" she said, sighing in annoyance. "I'm getting you a piece of chocolate whether you like it or not, so you may as well tell me what you want."

Her expression was so obstinate that he finally relented. "…The dark chocolate truffle."

"You're in luck. That's what I was going to get." She disappeared inside the shop. Hans waited a minute or two until she came back out again, carrying a small bag. They sat down on a nearby bench, and she handed him one of the truffles.

"Sharing chocolate," he commented, accepting it. "My brother would be ecstatic."

Elsa faux-grimaced. "What a terrifying image." She popped her truffle in her mouth, and he did the same.

"Mmm…" Both said, at exactly the same time, and then looked at each other, surprised, and couldn't help but chuckle.

* * *

**A/N: So again, this chapter was one of the longer chapters that I decided to split up; hopefully part 2 will be up soon. Thanks so much for reading and please review! : )**


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

The day had passed much quicker than expected from thereon, until the sun was setting over the western sea and most of the villagers were going home for the evening. Though it was long past whatever obligation they'd set out to fulfill, Hans and Elsa were still walking around the town, talking. "-You know, I'll be honest," Elsa commented, as they approached the docks. "I thought this day was going to be terrible, but we've been out here, what, four hours now?"

"Five, I think."

"And I haven't frozen your feet to the ground yet. I think that counts as an accomplishment."

"This just goes to prove that we _can _tolerate each other, once we agree to be civil," Hans pointed out.

They'd arrived at the docks, and Elsa suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! That reminds me; there was something I wanted to show you." She hurried off at a slightly quicker pace, and Hans followed. In a little section at the end of the docks was a small ship, older but still seaworthy, before which Elsa stopped. "This is it."

"The ship?"

"She's yours," Elsa explained. "This is the one you'll leave in."

"Really?" Hans said, surprised. He hadn't been expecting anything quite so nice. The ship was small and more of a sailing ship than a trading one, able to be manned by one crewmember if necessary, but she looked fast and sturdy. "Can we go aboard?"

"I think so. I own it, after all." Whirling her hand, she caused a snowy wind to come over the waters, creating a gentle wave that pushed the boat in closer to the docks. Hans managed to jump on and lowered the gangplank down for her, helping pull her aboard.

As soon as Elsa set foot on the boat, she felt nervous. She knew it was ridiculous; after all, it was just a ship, she was safe in the harbor with the dock just a few feet away, and the evening sky was clear and pinpricked with the first few glittering stars. Even so, she felt as if any moment a storm would come up over the ocean and sweep them out to sea, rolling the boat under the waves, snapping the mast like a toothpick—

"Queen Elsa!"

She started slightly. "What?"

"I asked if you were alright," Hans said, frowning. "I said your name at least three times."

"Oh. No, I'm fine, thank you."

Hans nodded, although he still looked doubtful. Walking a few paces away, he experimentally spun the wheel slightly. "She's a beautiful old ship," he commented. "Well-used, but beautiful. If this wood could talk…" He trailed off reminiscently, and then returned to the present. "If I haven't been grateful enough," he added, "then I apologize. Despite our, ah–"

"Fraught history."

"–_Fraught_ history, you've helped me escape an early death. I'm indebted to your generosity."

"Don't thank me yet. We could both still be hung if your brother finds out."

"True enough." He admired the ship again. "Do you sail at all?"

"Hm? Oh, um, no. I don't really enjoy sailing," she said uncomfortably.

"How could anyone not enjoy sailing?"

Elsa noticed she was wringing her hands, a nervous habit she'd never quite been able to get rid of, and she quickly put them down at her side. "I… I'm not a big fan of… boats."

He looked as if he were about to ask why, before it dawned on him. "Of course. Your parents…they were lost at sea, weren't they?"

Elsa gave a brief nod, looking away. "Yes. Four years ago now."

"I'm sorry," he said, and sounded genuinely apologetic. "I'd forgotten."

"It's alright." She watched as walked to the back and pulled off his white gloves, setting them down on a nearby barrel. It was the first time she'd seen his hands without them, and she commented as much.

"Being a prince of the Southern Isles," he replied, shrugging off his coat, "Is all about appearances. It's 'improper' for a prince not to wear gloves; Father was pedantically particular about it. My brothers and I would get into a good amount of trouble if we didn't wear them." She saw him wince. "Let's just say we made habit out of necessity. No rules about it for a sailor, though."

"How did you end up an admiral, anyway? You're rather young for it."

He shrugged, untangling some of the rigging. "When I was sixteen, Father shipped me off with the navy. He wanted to get rid of me and I wanted to go, so it worked out. I served four years, did you know?"

"No, I didn't," she said, slightly impressed despite herself. "Weren't you ever afraid?"

"Of the sea? No." He shook his head. "I actually wasn't going to tell you this, but since you asked, one of my ships _did_ go down in a storm—the rest of the crew were fine," he reassured her, seeing her panicked expression. "Lightning struck the mast and we had to abandon ship, but we had the rowboats. I don't remember most of it; apparently a falling timber hit me on the head and one of the others carried me to a lifeboat. But we were close to the coast, never in any real danger. I was just a boy then," he added, reminiscently.

"And even after that, you went back? You must have been terrified."

"Quite the contrary. Being at sea was the first time I felt really free. I loved being on the water, always made me feel…more in control of myself, of my life. Even the storms were _my _storms, if that makes sense. And when you get out on a clear night, with the stars out overhead and a warm breeze rocking the boat…it's the most beautiful thing in the whole world." He leaned with his elbows against the prow rail, eyes distant. "I never wanted to come back."

He sounded so melancholy that Elsa hesitated to say what she did next. "You know, I don't understand you."

"What do you mean?" he said, glancing over.

"First you try to kill me and take the throne, then you come back offering your help, then you act sarcastic as anything, and then you're perfectly charming all day long," Elsa explained. "It's as if you're any number of people all at once."

"Your point being?"

"For a man I'm supposed to be marrying, I don't know a whole lot about you." To anyone else, this would have sounded entirely ordinary, but Hans recognized the irony in her tone. "Who are you really, Prince Hans?"

He stared down at the icy waters. "I don't know," he said finally, quietly. "My whole life, I've adapted to whatever situation I found myself in—playing a part, if you will. I've spent so long being whatever I needed to be, I guess I never… really took the time to find out."

There was a moment's pause, and then Elsa said, "Well, why don't we take that time right now?"

"What?" he said, looking up in surprise.

"Let's find out who Prince Hans is," she said in a business-like manner. "We'll start small. Favorite food?"

He laughed. "You can't be serious."

"I am _very_ serious," she said, in quite a serious tone indeed, but it was contradicted by her smile. "Well? What is your favorite food?"

"Chocolate."

She gave him a look. "Chocolate isn't food."

"You eat it; hence, by its very nature, chocolate must be a food."

She huffed. "Fine. Your favorite _non-chocolate _food."

He shrugged. "Ham and cheese sandwiches."

Her mouth dropped open, and she burst out laughing. "Really?"

"Really," he answered, amused by her mirth. "You seem rather surprised."

"A little. It seems that's the one thing Anna got right about you."

Mentioning Anna seemed to subdue the new happy mood, so Elsa quickly added, "Alright, are you right-handed or left-handed?"

"Left, but I was trained with my right for swordsmanship. And yourself?"

"Left as well. Do you have a favorite book?"

"Hmm…Plato's _Republic."_

"Plato?" she said, surprised. "I didn't have you pegged as a philosopher."

"I'm not, really. Philosophy wasn't high on my father's priority list for my education. But I came across the book in the palace library and thought it was a fair representation of what a kingdom should be like. His framework was incomplete, of course, but impressive nonetheless." He rolled his eyes. "Agnar was less than enthusiastic when I tried to give him the book. He took it as a personal insult."

"I can imagine," she said dryly.

"You know, your Majesty," he commented, "I know very little about you, as well. Do you have a favorite book?"

She chuckled. "Ironically…my favorite book is Aristotle's _Politics."_

He laughed outright. "You mean that not even a minute after I told you I favored the _Republic,_ you claim to like Aristotle's _Politics?"_ She nodded, eyes twinkling. "Well then! We are quite a pair, aren't we, Queen Elsa?"

"That we are," she agreed.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Hans cleared his throat. "Alright, is it my turn to ask you something?"

"That depends," Elsa answered. "How personal is it?"

"It's about your, well…"

"Powers?" she finished.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"That's alright. You're wondering where they come from, aren't you?"

"Well, it's a reasonable question."

Elsa shrugged. "To be honest, I'm as clueless as you and everyone else. Mama and Papa always said I was born with them."

"Children aren't randomly born with powers over ice and snow," Hans pointed out.

"I'm well aware, but my answers are basically non-existent," she said truthfully. "I have no idea why I have this magic touch and Anna doesn't. I just… do. And since the rest of the world found out, I've been trying to use them responsibly, and prove that there's more to me than my magic." She smiled slightly. "I'd rather be remembered for _who_ I am than _what_ I am."

"Well, I'm… impressed you have such a firm grasp on your identity," Hans commented.

"Hm. Well, thank you. And you?"

"Pardon?"

"What identifies you?" she reiterated.

Hans considered this for a moment, and then said, "You do." At her surprised expression, he amended, "Or rather, what I tried to do to you."

For a moment, neither could speak. The happy mood was gone, and Elsa looked away. Why was she looking away, Hans wondered? She hadn't done anything wrong.

He was the villain here, not her.

In the end, he was the one who broke the silence. "That's why I have to go," he said as he walked away, trying to keep his tone light despite the dark subject. He put his hands on the wheel. "My brothers don't want me back home, you naturally don't want me anywhere near here… I really don't have a place in this world." His voice betrayed nothing, he even managed to smile lightly… but his eyes were masked, like a blank wall. "So I'll have to carve one out for myself, I suppose." Though he didn't say it, the meaning echoed in Elsa's mind as clearly as if he'd said it aloud: _I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere._

"Aren't you worried one of your brothers might come after you?" she questioned.

He shrugged, walking towards the back of the deck. "They'll probably be happy to be rid of me. I never had much use back home, anyway. I was sort of like—well, like this rope," he said, indicating the coil of rope hanging on a hook beside the door. "It's here in case the rigging ropes snap and need to be replaced. It's a spare." He stopped suddenly, and Elsa tilted her head, confused. Hans seemed lost in thought. "Do you know what it's like," he asked quietly, more to the sky and the sea than to her, "to be nothing but the spare…?

"**You're not part of the people, not born to be king-**

**Just someone who's uselessly in-between.**

**They're great generals, scholars, poets.**

**I'm the screw up…"**

He glanced over at her and gave a wry smile.

"**Don't I know it.**

**But then who could ever compare?**

**My whole life, I've known I'll never be the heir.**

**When you're the spare…**

**You're the absolute, final last-resort.**

**In case everything else goes wrong.**

**And they'd make a treaty by marrying you off,**

**To help "foreign relations" get along." **He rolled his eyes.

"**For twenty years, you train in poise and grace,**

**But what does it matter if you have no place?**

**But hey, that's only fair.**

**That's life, when you're just the spare."**

"Oh, you poor baby," Elsa said, even chuckling now that the mood seemed lighter. "Goodness knows why you ever _wanted_ to be the heir."

"Oh? And why's that?" he inquired, smiling a little despite himself.

"It's not exactly as much fun as it looks, you know," she informed him.

"_From the moment you're born, growing up,_

_You know someday you'll take the crown._

_Everyone expects so much of you;_

_Wisdom and wit and far renown._

_They all expect the "perfect one,"_

_And there's very rarely time for fun._

_You learn and wait and train and prepare._

_But well, that's life when you are the heir."_

"Well, if it's really not all it's cracked up to be, I'm glad I'm choosing an easier career," he said ironically. "Besides, I think I've proven pretty well some people just shouldn't be king." He shook his head. "Believe me, I've learned my lesson.

**Someday when I'm gone,**

**Far away who I've been,**

**Where no one knows my face or name,**

**I'll make a new life then," **he promised.

"**I could forge a different path,**

**Make a brand new start.**

**I could mean _something_ to someone;**

**How I'd love to play that part.**

**So I'm just the last-born brother**

**Who everyone wishes that they could ignore.**

**I'm the villain; and let's face it:**

**There's nothing I deserve better than your scorn.**

**Maybe I don't deserve to be free,**

**And maybe there's truly no place for me.**

**But at least I want a chance to belong somewhere.**

**So even if I'm not the heir—well.**

**I'm more than just–"**

"Elsa!" a voice called, suddenly breaking their conversation. Both turned, startled. Anna was waving to her sister from a ways away, at the end of the docks.

"Oh my goodness; I didn't even realize how late it's gotten!" Elsa exclaimed, checking the bell-tower. "I promised I'd have dinner with her and Kristoff."

"My apologies; I didn't mean to keep you," Hans answered.

"Oh, no; I'm just as much to blame." She hurried over to the gangplank and called, "I'm coming, Anna!" When she reached the dock, she turned back. "Good evening, Prince Hans." She gave a small curtsy, and he inclined his head with a smile, before she hurried to meet her sister.

Hans watched as the two began to talk happily. They were soon joined by the suitor—Kristoff—and what appeared to be a reindeer, before they headed up the path towards the castle gates. His smile faded.

**"Why did I even care?"** he asked himself softly. **"Just had to go and prove I'm not the spare…"**

And, not able to stand watching anymore, he turned away.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Lots of dialogue in this chapter. What did you think?**

**_Pax et bonum!_ -FFcrazy15**


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**WARNING: This story will discuss topics such as racism and bigotry in traditional Scandinavia. T****he words "Lapp" and "Laplander" _ARE CONSIDERED_**** offensive; they are being used in this story to accurately communicate the effects of systematic bigotry and racism, _not_ to advocate their use.**

* * *

"Well done, your Majesty," the Snow Queen said, usually inscrutable expression tinged with just the slightest hint of cold approval. She took the icy shard in hand and curled her fingers around it possessively. "Two more must be found, and then the other three collected from you, your brother and the Queen."

"That is the trouble," Agnar said. The two were standing in the woods not far from Arendelle. "I am having difficulty finding them. The shard has not burned again."

"That is not my problem," she said dismissively.

"If you want them found then it is your problem," he said sharply.

The Snow Queen turned an icy eye to him, and then said, "The shards become more potent in the presence of anger and hatred. Surely a murderer and his would-be victim exude both?"

"Apparently not enough."

"Hm…" She seemed to be pondering this. "Surprising. But not a major setback." She nodded towards the castle. "If the Queen and your brother will not cause the necessary antagonism on their own, you must do it for them. Create tension in the castle, in those close to them. The princess and her suitor, the servants. Whoever may be of use. And push their relationship further; even if they are behaving civilly now, they will resent being forced and eventually will turn to hatred." Her eyes grew colder still. "Remember: the remaining shards must be gathered before the dawn of that accursed day."

"They will be collected before then," Agnar vowed. "I swear to you, the sun will not shine on Arendelle come Christmas morning."

The Snow Queen's face seemed to tighten at that, but she merely nodded. "You know your duty. Now go." With a swirl of winter winds, she vanished.

Agnar set out again for the small capital city, walking through the snowy woods. As he overlooked a bluff down into the harbor, he recognized a large majority of the ships by the flags they bore. Nearly all the friendly countries had arrived for the wedding. There were even a few late trade ships, safely docked in the harbor.

His expression darkened. That was dangerous. He and the Snow Queen had one little trick up their sleeve, if worst came to worst, but the disaster would not be as effective if the town could withstand it so easily. This would have to be fixed.

When he reached the edges of town, he was met by a number of his brothers—five, to be exact: Erling, Frederick, Helge, Ivar, and Jens. "Ah, just the men I was looking for."

"You spoke to her?" Erling, the eldest of the group, questioned.

"I did."

"What did she say?" Frederick demanded.

Agnar shot him a cold glare, and the younger retreated like a scolded dog. "That is my concern, not yours. But I do have a job for you." He nodded to the harbor. "Take the ships on which you arrived and sail south. No trade ships are to enter Arendellian waters, am I understood?"

"You mean we won't be here for the wedding?" Ivar said, frowning.

Agnar fought the urge to smack his brother as Erling and Frederick rolled their eyes. The Terrible Trio were not the brightest wicks in the wax. "How many times have I told you, there will be _no wedding?_ Brother dearest will have surely burned the castle to the ground by then, and then the real work starts."

"Question," said Jens, raising a hand slightly. "Wouldn't it just be _easier_ to tell Hans he's a human tinderbox, instead of waiting for him to find out?"

"If we _told_ him, he would run to the Queen for help, instead of forcing her to try to _kill_ him," Agnar said, with the air of a schoolmaster trying to instruct a particularly daft child.

"But-" his brother started, still looking confused.

"I don't have time to explain everything to you; just do as you're told. Set sail tonight, after dark."

They all recognized a direct order when they heard one, and they bowed and left. Agnar rubbed his temples. Dealing with fools like his brothers was such a headache.

He walked off towards the palace. It was time to see whom exactly he could exploit.

* * *

Kristoff swore, if he had to listen to _one more word_ about whose daughter was marrying whose son and how it affected each family's fortune, he would walk out of the conference room.

The council meeting had already gone on for two hours and had developed into a debate between two different families regarding dowries and land and political status. He looked around the room. Most of the other councilmembers were trying to occupy themselves in some way or another: doodling, counting ceiling tiles, cleaning their fingernails, etc. Anna was pulling at a loose thread on her dress. Even Hans, who was only present due to his (alleged) approaching coronation, seemed bored out of his skull. Only Elsa was trying to follow the argument, with a look of weary resignation.

"-The manor should rightfully fall in as her property; her grandfather left it to her in his will!"

"The manor belongs to her eldest brother and his children!"

"Can I ask something?" Kristoff asked tiredly, and the two nobles turned to look at him, surprised. "Why does it matter?"

The whole room had gone silent, and Kristoff suddenly realized he'd said something wrong. "It matters, Sir Bjorgman," said one of the nobles testily, "Because with the manor goes a title which rightfully belongs to my first son's heirs."

"No, it belongs to _your daughter's_ heirs, and therefore mine!"

"The law is clear on this matter," Elsa said exhaustedly. "The manor was left to the girl in the will; hence, her heirs will inherit the title and the land. Lord Frandsen is correct."

"But your Majesty-"

"The law is the law, Lord Finnmork, and said law cannot be changed or have a situation excepted from it without a vote from this council."

The man appeared spitting mad. "Then I call for a vote of exception!"

Several of the council heads groaned audibly, but Elsa held up a hand. "Alright, a vote it is. All in favor of making the exception?"

Lord Finnmork raised a hand. So did two other nobles, but the large majority kept their hands down. Elsa nodded. "And all opposed?"

Everyone else, including her, indicated their agreement. Elsa nodded. "Alright, then it's settled: there will be no exception. We'll reconvene tomorrow to settle the grain dispute in the southern province, so just leave your paperwork here. Meeting adjourned."

The councilmembers slowly stood and filed out of the room, Elsa and Anna at the lead. Kristoff could see Lord Finnmork glaring at him; no doubt he believed that with more time he could have persuaded more people to his side of the case. As the man passed him, he jostled the harvester accidentally-on-purpose, knocking Kristoff into the chair.

_"Lapp,"_ the man hissed under his breath.

Hans, who was following behind, noted the way Kristoff tensed, but the mountain man said nothing and merely paused, waiting for the rest of the room to be empty. Once the rest of the council was out of hearing range, Kristoff muttered to himself, "I'd like to give that guy a piece of my mind."

"I don't blame you." Despite being a native of the Southern Isles, Hans in his studies had come across the deep rift that separated southern Arendellians and other northern Scandinavians from the Sámi people, for the former often considered the latter inferior. While Elsa and Anna clearly had no such prejudice, he could understand why, if Kristoff really did carry Sámi blood, it would be a scandal among the courts. "Is it…?"

"My mother was Sámi. So, yeah, it's true." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I could usually pass myself off as full-blooded Arendellian for business and stuff, but once I proposed to Anna, the council started asking a lot of questions, and…I mean, it was already bad _enough_ she was marrying a commoner, let alone a Laplander."

Hans noted bitterness behind the word. _So he's ashamed of it, then. _"Is the princess aware?"

"Yeah. I don't think she knows what they're saying about us, though." He fell into a brooding silence for a few moments, before he said, "But they couldn't find any law against it, and Elsa approves of the marriage, so the council can't really stop us."

"You should tell the princess," Hans advised. "If she knew how they were treating her betrothed–"

"Anna doesn't know and she's not going to know," he said forcefully. "And you'd better not breathe a word of this to her! Got it?"

"…Of course. Not a word."

Kristoff glared at him, and then sighed, looking away. "It's just…she's got enough to deal with on her own. She doesn't need my problems, too."

"You… really care about her, don't you?" Hans asked carefully.

"Yeah," Kristoff agreed, voice surprisingly a little wistful. "Yeah, I'd do anything for her."

"The princess is a very fortunate woman," Hans replied, voice emotionless.

Kristoff opened his mouth to reply, and then looked over at him. Something passed behind those dark brown eyes, and the mountain man's face went stony as whatever bridge they had just built was burnt to cinders again. "Yeah," he said again, this time with a different tone, much darker and even a little threatening. "And you'd better remember it." Without another word, he walked out of the room and down the hall.

Hans watched him go, and then sighed and walked out as well, going down the opposite side of the hall. The door closed behind him.

On the opposite side of the room, the back doors opened, and a man with dark brown hair and a crown entered the room. King Agnar raised an eyebrow. "Well, well," he said, scanning the empty room. "Who knew the oaf was a Laplander?" He caught sight of the papers on the table. This was the perfect opportunity to lay a little groundwork. "Or that the Queen was such a fool as to leave important documents in an empty room?"

He turned to the cold fireplace and, upon finding the tinderbox, reached for the latch. Then, he had another idea. Removing the little box from the inside of his waistcoat, he very carefully took out the shard. It glowed and shimmered like a hot coal.

He set the shard down on top of the nearest folder. The paper turned brown, and then began to curl. At last, a flame bloomed along the paper, hungrily eating away at the material. Smiling to himself, the king picked up the shard (it was somehow only warm to the touch) and enclosed it in the box once more. Then, he walked back out, tucking the box back inside his pocket.

* * *

_Snuffle-uffle-uff._

"C'mon, buddy, cut it out."

_Snuffle-uff._

Kristoff pushed Sven's head away from his pocket. "I told you, I don't have any carrots." He brushed the reindeer's fur with an irritated sort of manner, harder than he usually would have, and Sven gave him a snort and an annoyed look.

The mountain man sighed. "Sorry. I guess I'm just in a bad mood."_ "Why? What happened?"_ he said, adopting the tone he usually took for Sven's voice, and then went back to himself and sighed. "Long story. Political stuff. Heck, I don't even understand half of it."

The reindeer gave a low, muffled noise of disbelief and nudged his master slightly with his antlers. Kristoff substituted in his own words. _"That's not all, is it?"_ "Look, buddy, it's nothing. It's fine."

"He's a very verbose animal, isn't he?"

Kristoff jumped about a foot and whirled around. Standing in the doorway of the stables was the Southern king. The ice harvester quickly went back to brushing Sven, afraid he might betray something on his face. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no, obviously, but, uh… I sort of know what he would say if he could, y'know?"

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." Agnar walked into the stables, eyeing the reindeer. Sven eyed him right back, and Kristoff fought to keep from smirking. "I take it the council meeting didn't go well?"

"Uh- no, I mean, it was fine," Kristoff said quickly, trying not to let his distaste for the man creep into his voice. The king couldn't know that _he_ knew the man was as big of a jerk as his younger brother—if not more so. _Although I didn't think that possible until now. _"I mean, it's just, you know, normal council-y stuff." He winced, knowing how much he sounded like a total doofus.

"Oh, I do. Believe me, I do," the king said, chuckling. "The important thing with councils is knowing how to handle them. Take a firm hand, that's the trick."

"Uh…yeah, I guess." _What?_

"Although I'm sure this wasn't an average session," Agnar commented. "Surely things normally run much smoother?"

"Oh, uh- I don't really know, to be honest. I haven't sat through too many of them. Usually Elsa handles my part of it, but now that Anna and I are gettin' married and all…"

"Ah, I see. Well, there isn't much to it, once you know what you're doing. I've found so long as you have all your paperwork done and you know the foibles of all your counselors, the job is really quite a simple task."

Kristoff had stopped brushing Sven, his brows furrowed in concentration. _Paperwork… I barely get through my paperwork as it is. And I bet it'll increase after the wedding._

"And, of course, you have to make sure your council will listen to you," Agnar continued. "There's nothing worse than a council who cannot function because their leader has no hold on the reigns." He looked over suddenly, as if worried he'd offended the mountain man. "Not that you have any problems with that, I'm sure."

_Oh, jeez, you've got no idea._ "Well, uh, I'm sure they'll be more, you know, open to listening, when I'm…I mean, not that they'd _have_ to listen to me, just 'cause I'll be a prince, but, uh…"

"Naturally, naturally," Agnar agreed, as if trying to affirm the idea that everything would turn out fine. But Kristoff wasn't so sure. Heck, the council didn't listen to him on the smallest matter _now; _if they openly made fun of the guy who was going to be their monarch within the month, how could he expect them to ever listen to him as a prince?

"But that's all people skills, nothing too obscure," Agnar added.

"Oh, yeah," Kristoff agreed, with some relief. People skills were one thing he understood. Sure, he was a loner, but he'd spent a good fifteen years or so basically running his own ice business; he wasn't lacking in persuasive abilities.

"I remember my years of diplomacy training," the king said, eyes acquiring a distant quality. "Father taught me at his right hand. He said it would be necessary for a future sovereign. Well, he was right, of course; I don't know where I'd be without his instruction. No doubt I would have run the kingdom into the ground," he said with a dry and somehow flat chuckle.

_Diplomacy training?_ Kristoff hadn't the slightest idea of what such training would include. Did they teach you something special in that, about how to work with nobles and the like? He'd pretty much learned his communication skills through trial-and-error, but who knew if that same sort of stuff worked on higher-ups?

"Well, I'm afraid I must be going," Agnar said suddenly. "Good day, Sir Bjorgman."

"Oh- uh, yeah, see you later." The king raised his brows at the unorthodox phrase, but gave a brief nod and then left.

Kristoff stood there, the frown still plastered on his face. _'No doubt I would have run the kingdom into the ground,'_ he heard the king say in his mind. Was that what he was destined to do? After all, if all that training were so important, then what would a prince who didn't know _any_ of it do to a country? Were Anna and Elsa taught this stuff? Well duh, of course they were—they'd been brought up princesses. Were there any books in the library he could read? Would he even understand them?

Sven nudged him with his head, looking up at his master with worry. Kristoff shook his head slightly, trying to banish the worries. "I'm fine, buddy; don't worry about it."

Sven seemed to frown as well, as if still uncertain, but let Kristoff alone. And yet, even as the mountain man resumed his brushing, the worries refused to leave, swirling around and around in his head like winter snow.

* * *

"-White or red, m'lady?"

"Oh, I-I don't know…which do you think will work better?"

Gerda smiled at Anna, who was squinting almost cross-eyed at the two different tablecloth samples in front of her. "Princess Anna, it's _your_ wedding. Well, you and your sister's, and she's given you full control. The choice is up to you."

Anna grinned. "I know, I just…" She sighed. "I want everything to be perfect."

"Well, with your taste, we needn't worry about that a jot," the older housekeeper said with a well-meaning cluck of her tongue. "White is more traditional, but red is your accent color."

"Gerda, ma'am!" a younger maid said, tapping her knuckles on the door.

The older woman turned. "Yes, Martha?"

"The kitchen staff needs you right away, ma'am. Something to do with the pantry?"

Gerda sighed. "You'd think after over a decade of me running this whole place almost alone, they'd be able to figure out a simple thing like the pantry." She smiled at Anna. "I'll be back shortly, m'lady."

"Oh, okay," Anna said with a smile. "Take your time."

Gerda followed the maid out of the room, and Anna went back to staring at the tablecloths. Which one did Gerda say was more traditional? White, probably. Which one would Kristoff want? Would he even care about tablecloths? She should ask him. What if-?

At the sound of a cough, she turned, startled. "Oh! King Agnar." A thousand red flags flared up in her mind, but she kept her face and tone cheery. "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you; and yourself?"

"Oh, I'm great," she said, smiling. "Everything's going so fast, though; I can't believe it's only…" She counted in her head. "Twenty-two days away, including today."

"You must be very happy," Agnar asserted.

"Oh, I am," Anna said, grinning from ear to ear as she folded up the linens. That at least was genuine. "I can't believe it's going to happen!"

"Yes, and so soon, too," he agreed. "Royal weddings are always such important affairs. In my own country we haven't had a court wedding for… oh, I would say several years now." As Anna continued to look over the tablecloths, he said, "It's interesting, I think, how marriage changes people."

"What do you mean?" she said, glancing back in surprise.

"Oh, just how some women react very strangely, going from being eligible to a matron. Why, I've known more than a few who seemed to switch personalities altogether. It's murder on their husbands, of course; that sweet girl they thought they married suddenly becomes a veritable shrew." With every word he spoke, Anna's smile was fading, being replaced by a stunned, worried look. "And then there's the children to think about. Some of the ladies I thought would make the kindest of mothers end up absolute tyrants to their children." He stopped suddenly, as if noticing Anna's silence. "Oh, I didn't mean that would happen to _you, _Princess."

"Oh," she said, with obvious relief. She turned, smiling a little sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I was just reading into that too much."

"You'll forgive me; I suppose I didn't think before I spoke. After all, you and Sir Kristoff seem to be a very happy pair. And yyou're such a patient, demure young woman; I'm certain the two of you have never really had too grand of a dispute."

"No, no, we, uh, we've had a few doozies," she laughed nervously, going back to the swatches. _Patient and demure? Me? _"Yelling, screaming, the whole deal."

"Ah." He cleared his throat. "Well, every marriage can have…moments of tension, but the important matter is of course to ensure both parties are well-matched. Ordinarily in the cases of royalty that would involve a matchmaker, of course, but it seems you and your suitor were comfortable with the more, ah, rustic route." Anna stared. "Forgive me, was I too forward?"

"No! No, it's fine. Um, Kristoff and I met when I went to save Elsa and we kinda just, um, fell head over heels."

"How quaint. Well, I shan't distract you from your duties any longer; I wish you the happiest of marriages, your highness—especially after all the trouble my brother put you through. Please, do inform one of my brothers if there is anything the Southern Isles may do to assist the festivities."

"Thank you…"

He inclined his head and left, shutting the door behind him. Anna looked down at the tablecloths in her hands.

Was she… really ready for this? After all, she had a habit of rushing into things—_especially marriage,_ she thought ruefully.

_But this is different,_ her mind quickly dismissed. _That was Hans, this is Kristoff; they're two entirely different people. I mean, you and Kristoff are meant to be-_

_"–You and I are just meant to be!"_ she heard her own voice echo happily in harmony with Hans's.

She sat down in a nearby chair, feeling slightly sick. What if she _was_ rushing into this? Had she put enough thought into what it meant to get married, to start a family? Sure, she'd obviously _thought_ about having kids, and she'd loved the idea to death—but what if that was just a false sense of confidence? What if she ended up being a terrible mother, a terrible wife? Were she and Kristoff even "well matched?" Well, she knew what some people on the council said, but she didn't care about them. But Kristof…Kristoff was _mature, _smart, worldly. She was just Anna, naïve-Anna-who-grew-up-in-a-castle, reckless-Anna-who-got-engaged-in-one-night. What if she wasn't responsible enough to get married? What if she wasn't "patient" or "demure" enough? What if–

"Now stop that right there," she told herself aloud firmly. "The king is the _bad_ guy here; you can't go around listening to what he says!"

But…what if the king was _right?_ It wasn't logical to think that just because someone was a liar that everything they _said_ was wrong. After all, sometimes liars told the truth, right? Even if only on accident. Hans was a perfect example; he took the _cake_ in being a liar, but now they were trusting him with their lives.

Anna let out a little moan of frustration and buried her head in her hands, trying to think. For a moment she struggled with the complexities of the problem, and then sighed, sitting up again. What was she doing? She was overthinking this. She just had to take this one day at a time, right? And right now, she had to decide on a tablecloth color.

She stood up and looked between the white and the red, biting her lip. Eventually, she folded the red, put it back in the box, and nodded firmly at the white. That was the color she wanted; at least she was sure of that.

_But what about the rest of it?_ that little voice said in the back of her mind.

Anna brushed aside the little voice. She didn't need to think about that right now, did she? No. Of course not. So the little voice could just _stay where it was and shut up._

But, of course, it didn't.

* * *

**A/N: Regarding Kristoff's Sámi heritage:**

**One of my biggest disappointments with the sequel was that, despite including Sámi-inspired characters as a major plot point, Kristoff's heritage was never discussed (and I won't deny, it was odd seeing him standing side-by-side with the Northuldra, in the same traditional Sámi clothing, next to his reindeer, with no explanation). While Disney has not officially said that Kristoff is Sámi, the stave church museum in Norway Land in Disneyworld does in fact state that his character's clothing, occupation, etc. were all inspired by the various Sámi tribes of northern Scandinavia. I have chosen to write him as such.**

**In this story, Kristoff's being discriminated against due to his mother's bloodline would have been historically accurate; many Scandinavians at that point in time considered the Sámi people to be inferior, and legal, political, and religious oppression of the people of Sápmi (also referred to as Lapland) continued late into the twentieth century. In the era of this story, the idea of a person of Sámi descent being involved in the royal courts would've been incredibly scandalous. Because I believe in historical accuracy when writing about a certain time period, I have brought it up here, but will attempt to treat the matter with the sensitivity it deserves.**

**On that note: the words "Lapp" and "Laplander" _ARE CONSIDERED_**** offensive; they are being used in this story to accurately communicate the effects of systematic bigotry and racism, _not_ to advocate their use. If you use them after reading this story and get a black eye, don't come crying to me.**

**As a last note: I myself am of Norwegian/Swedish descent, and have the honor of having a Sámi ancestor through my mother's side. However, my family actually**** did not know about this until the past few decades because that ancestor pretended to be of Sephardic Jewish descent to explain her darker features, rather than admit her Sámi heritage. Although this part of my heritage is remote and I don't claim it as my culture, I'm nonetheless proud of my family's history**** and hope that understanding and acceptance will continue to grow between the Sámi and northern Scandinavian cultures.**

**As a last aside: the odds of this story being totally free from my own implicit biases or cultural misunderstandings are fairly low. I apologize to anyone who may have been offended; please reach out to me and let's have a conversation.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! _Pax et bonum!_**


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

The Snow Queen's sleigh raced over the frozen ground with a speed unknown to the mortals in the southlands far below. The northern lights danced above her, green and rose, and some part of her hated them and loved them at the same time. Green and rose… springtime and life.

_"Julia!"_

She shook her head slightly, frowning deeply. Once she had been able to stand the lights, even used them to illuminate her palace, but now they only brought back memories of too many things about which there was no use thinking. She turned her eyes from the wavering bands of light and continued her fast-paced trek across the ice caps. Into her view came a towering fortress. It glimmered icily in the glowing light, and the Snow Queen smiled with a smile as cold as her palace. Her castle of ice was a city unto itself, a lifeless world all her own. On the top of the earth, nearer the Northern Pole than any other settlement known to man, it was too cold for anyone to survive for long, save for herself and her icy creations. Here, everything was under her control. She ruled her silent citadel with an iron fist.

The great ice giants turned to greet her as the sleigh pulled up to the doors. "At ease," she said curtly as she stepped out, and they returned to their former positions. The ice giants, huge translucent sentinels of her own creation, were nuisances but necessary ones. After that pathetic little girl had defeated her snow guards some fifty years previous, she had quickly set to work at making larger, more efficient guards to protect the castle.

She pushed open the doors and quickly made her way through her labyrinthine palace to her throne room. Her ice-clad heels clicked as she paced across the frozen floor before her throne, thinking. "What to do, what to do," she said to herself. "That fool will never accomplish it on his own. Why is it that I always have to do _everything_ for these people?"

She stopped in front of the window on the opposite side of the room, looking out over her icy realm. Slowly, a smirk spread across her lips.

"Of course; how silly of me." She strode out onto the balcony beyond the window and began to chant lowly, hands turning and twisting. Between her snow-white palms, a blue light began to crackle, fierce and cold. The crackling grew to twisting, larger and larger, and her smirk became a cold grin. With a large flourish, she threw her arms to the sky.

Across the North Pole, there erupted a blizzard, winds screaming, snow swirling. The Snow Queen laughed and threw her hands out, sending the blizzard south, covering the northern lights and their blasted brightness.

"After all," she said, grinning. "Nothing causes distress faster than a storm."

* * *

Paperwork.

She couldn't understand it, but she was pretty sure it was a secondary curse. Every time, without fail, every time she sat down to complete some of the avalanche-like amount of paperwork that came with being a queen, that paperwork which piled up into mountains upon mountains of little notes, all of which _of course_ had to be signed by her own hand and sealed with her own ring—_that_ was when trouble struck.

And so she really wasn't that surprised when, the moment she picked up her quill, a maid burst into the study.

Elsa threw down the quill in frustration, splattering ink and little snowflakes all across the trade agreements with the Eastern Mountains. "Well the castle had better be on fire!"

* * *

The castle was on fire.

She ran through the halls, skirt grasped in hand and sprinting as fast as she could. She tripped over a rug and nearly fell, before continuing on down the corridor. The smoke grew thicker the closer she got to the conference room, where the maid had said the fire had started. She covered what would usually have been a five-minute walk in the space of about ninety seconds. As she rounded the corner, she stopped, mouth hanging agape.

All her life, she'd been wary of fire. When she was a child, she'd really believed that she would _melt, _and had been so fearful of it that she would shrink back at the sight of a candle. Of course, she'd eventually learned how ridiculous a thought this was, since after all she was still human—just maybe human and a little something extra. Even so, the old fear had never quite left her, and so when she saw the conference room ablaze with flames and smoke billowing out of the open doors (which were also on fire and couldn't be shut), she stopped short in momentary terror. So stunned was she by the sight that she didn't even notice when the burning doorframe, to which had been fastened the iron hinges, suddenly splintered altogether. The door fell forward- straight towards Elsa.

"Queen Elsa!" Someone grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the way, just as the door crashed to the ground right where she'd been standing. The flames blazed up in front of her eyes like a devouring monster before suddenly guttering down, leaving her gasping in the heat of it.

"Are you alright?" Hans demanded, for it was he who had pulled her away.

"Yes, I-" She coughed on the smoke. "-I'm fine."

"You have to put the fire out!"

"Yes, yes, of course-"

"Hurry!"

Trying to clear her head—she could hardly breathe with all the smoke—she focused hard as she faced the heat, squinting at the intense brightness of the flames. Raising her hands, she conjured up the feeling of snow in her bones.

The flames were doused by a stream of blizzard-like snow, pouring into the room incessantly until the fire had been entirely put out. Still coughing, she looked around. "Is everyone alright?" she called. Most of the nobles who were a part of her council and quite a few who weren't had arrived. At the general positive response, she looked over to Hans. "Thank y- your sleeve!"

"Thank my sleeve?" he said, baffled.

"No, your sleeve, it's on fire!"

He looked down, startled, and then quickly beat out the flames that were devouring the left sleeve of his jacket. "Is your arm burnt?" Elsa questioned, concerned.

"No, I'm fine," he said, inspecting the skin beneath where the jacket had been charred away.

"Well, that's fortunate, at least." She looked with despair at the conference room, which was now little more than a blackened-out hollow. "I can't believe this. How could this have happened?"

"Could someone have lit the fireplace and caught the rug on fire?" one of the nobles suggested.

"No; the fireplace is never lit in there," another countered.

"Someone go check the tinderbox."

One of the lords disappeared inside the room, which was now cool enough to enter thanks to Elsa's emergency downpour. The Queen pinched the bridge of her nose, beginning to pace. "This is a disaster. We were supposed to hold a second meeting in there tomorrow- oh no!" she gasped, whirling around.

"What?" demanded Anna, who had hurried up next to her.

"Our papers! I had you all leave them in there!" Her expression turned to one of horror and guilt. "I never meant…"

"It wasn't your fault," Anna said sternly. "You couldn't have known that someone was going to try to burn down the castle."

"Was it intentional?" Kristoff said from his fiancé's side.

"We don't know yet."

"The steel and flint are still in the tinderbox," the lord who'd gone inside reported, hurrying out. "The outside's scorched, but the inside is still covered in dust. It looks like it was never even opened."

"Then someone must have brought in an extra set. Who was the last person in the room?" Elsa questioned.

"I was," Hans said. Everyone turned to look at him, and he suddenly realized that this was as good as an admission of guilt. "But I didn't do this."

"You expect us to take your word for it?!" one of the nobles demanded angrily.

"No, but you can take mine," Kristoff said, stepping forward. "He left just seconds after me; he never would've had time. Besides, I would've heard him strike the flint."

"Someone must've come in after we all left," Elsa agreed.

"I still say we shouldn't trust _him,"_ the nobleman said, glaring at Hans.

"Now hold on a minute, I didn't–" Hans started angrily, but Elsa cut him off.

"All of us here are under just as much suspicions as Prince Hans- in fact, anyone in this castle could be the perpetrator. We have no way to know at the present time." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Regardless of who started the fire, the report still needs to be taken care of. We can postpone it until after the wedding, at least. But we'll all need to redo the paperwork."

Several of the lords and ladies groaned, but Elsa held up a hand. "I know, I know. But it must be done. The council won't convene today; thank you all for your patience." Recognizing this as a dismissal, many of the nobles present walked off, grumbling to themselves.

When they were gone, Elsa turned to Hans. "Did you-"

"I told you, I had nothing to do with it!" he said emphatically.

"Let me finish," she replied sternly. He closed his mouth. "Did you see anyone when you left?"

"No," he answered. "Besides, even if I had, Mr. Bjorgman would've seen them, too."

She looked over at Kristoff, who shook his head. "No one."

Elsa gave a brief nod, biting her lip. "What about one of your brothers?" she questioned Hans.

"It's possible," he agreed, "but there wouldn't be any point to it. Agnar wants us to get married; the last thing he'd do is cause any sort of trouble that could prevent that."

"Then who?" Anna demanded. "For starters, Prince Charming, I don't see why I should believe you at all."

"I just said–" Hans started.

"Yeah, well, you said a lot of things," Anna said bitterly. "So you're going to need a better excuse than that."

Fighting the urge to start shouting, Hans took a breath and calmed himself. "Anna-"

_"Princess_ Anna," she snapped.

"Princess Anna, what use would there be for me to burn the conference room? If I really wanted to do any of you harm, I could have done so a long time ago. I know that doesn't exactly sound like an invitation to trust, but destroying a few grain reports does nothing to really hurt a kingdom—well, except give the queen a lot more work."

"Don't remind me," Elsa sighed. "Anna, he has a point; this doesn't do much except give me and the rest of us a little more to do. It's not as if it's going to be a major setback to the kingdom." She paused, and then said, "We can't allow the guests to feel endangered or we'll risk starting a riot, which is the last thing we need right now. Someone needs to start the rumor that a candle got tipped over or the like. Anna, you know the servants the best; you handle that. I'll tell the councilmembers that this has to be kept quiet. Understood?"

"Gotcha," Anna said, shooting one last glare in Hans's direction. "I'll see you guys later." She turned to go to the kitchen, and then stopped suddenly. "Kristoff, I know this isn't the best time, but do you maybe wanna go down to the docks today?"

The man had been heading back towards his chambers, but stopped when he heard this. Although his first impulse was to answer yes, he suddenly remembered what Agnar had said in the stables.

_Run the kingdom into the ground._

He cleared his throat, glancing back. "No, uh, I've got some work I gotta do. Maybe later."

"Oh," she said surprised. "Okay, then." She gave a quick goodbye to Elsa, pointedly ignored Hans, and then started down the nearest flight of stairs.

Elsa couldn't help but chuckle a little as she watched her go, despite the disaster behind her. Hans glanced at her, annoyed. "What?"

"Just that there's a lot more to Anna than meets the eye," she said vaguely. "Who knew she could be so effective at freezing people out?"

The same thing ran through their minds at the exact same moment, and Hans opened his mouth to say it, before quickly closing it shut. That would be a low blow if there ever was one.

Elsa, however, bit her lip again, harder this time, and then said softly, "I… suppose she learned from the best."

"Perhaps she did," Hans agreed quietly.

Elsa looked over at him sharply, no doubt intending to shoot him with some barbed retort, but then she saw again the scorched, charred mess behind him, and groaned. "This could not have happened at a worse time. I'm already busy enough as it is; the last thing I needed was paperwork to redo."

"Well, to be frank, there isn't much you can do about it now," Hans said bluntly. She shot him a look, and he added, "It's about suppertime; you ought to eat. I'm sure things will seem less impossible after a ham-and-cheese sandwich."

"Oh, you're 'sure,' are you?" she said, but her irritation seemed lessened. "I'll see you later, Prince Hans."

"Until then, your Majesty." He inclined his head slightly, and then both turned and went in the opposite directions.

* * *

_The prison cell was cold and damp, and he shivered as he lay the unconscious woman down on the bench. He located the cuffs that one of the guardsmen said seemed to have been created for this very purpose, and methodically locked her slender hands inside._

_He stared at her sleeping form. Even at rest, her face was distraught, exhausted. There were rings under her eyes, like bruises in her pale skin, and she looked so horribly pathetic and unhappy. Like an ice queen starved by her own frozen fears._

_He didn't want to kill this woman._

_The Queen looked so- so helpless. So small and timid, like a child scared of her own shadow. His hands felt like they were burning inside his gloves; a feverish feeling was spreading up his arms and flushing him with heat. He stared down at the woman before him and wondered when exactly he'd started to consider putting an end to her life. Had it been when she'd forbidden her sister to marry him? Or even before, on the terrace with Anna? And then that chandelier…_

_That had been a mistake. An intelligent, calculated mistake, maybe, but a mistake nonetheless. It had been perfect; everything was set up for the queen to die at her own hand. The ideal chance. He wouldn't have even been to blame! But he'd knocked the crossbow upwards to shatter the ice, saving her life and knocking her unconscious. He didn't have to ask himself why he'd done it, he knew the reason perfectly well: cowardice. He'd never murdered anyone before, directly or otherwise—killing was one thing, and in a world of pirates and privateers sometimes a naval officer had no choice, but this was different, this was murder he was thinking about. How long had he been thinking about it? It had all been hypotheticals until that moment with the chandelier, and then suddenly the hypothetical had become very, very real, and his instincts had taken over him and rebelled against it__. Was it weakness? Was it conscience?_

_What on earth was he doing?_

_His father would have berated him for such weakness; his brothers would have jeered at him and called him a gutless fool. But some part of him—the part he stubbornly kept at bay, because he knew how the world worked and sympathy wasn't one of its rules—made him reach for the thin gray blanket off to the side and drape it over the queen, whether she felt the cold or not._

_He stood up, trying to steady his shaking hands. He didn't have to make this decision now, at any rate. That could wait. Besides, he needed her to end the winter. No, she didn't have to die yet. Maybe she wouldn't have to die at all; maybe if Anna never came back, he could turn his attentions to her, as had been his original plan. He ran the odds: persuade her to stop the storm, soothe the people's fears, give her a shoulder to cry on for her dear dead sister—yes, that was the way. In any case, he didn't have to make any choices yet. His options were wide open._

_He walked out of the cell and closed the door behind him._

_As he turned, he found himself not in the dungeon corridor, but instead standing off to the side of an empty ballroom- well, nearly empty. There were two figures in the center, dancing to a beautiful waltz. The woman was a pale blonde and dressed in a lovely light pink, slightly shimmery gown; it glistened in the gilded light like a frosted spring blossom. The man had donned a white suit-coat and had reddish-brown hair, a regal crown upon his brow. Upon closer examination, he realized that the woman was Queen Elsa and the man was…himself?_

_Yet it didn't seem too terribly odd to him, to be watching his doppleganger dance with the queen. Smiling faintly, he sat down on a nearby chair to watch._

_His other self spun the queen slowly and pulled her close again, taking her bare hand in his white-gloved own. Hans, the real Hans, frowned briefly, looking around. Where was the music coming from? He could see no orchestra, no string quartet to bring the waltz to life._

_His attention was drawn back to the pair in the center as his alter spun the Queen and then pulled her close. Goodness, she was beautiful. Even lying in that little prison cell she'd been beautiful, not that he'd noticed further than a passing observance. But now…_

_His twin touched the queen's chin, and Elsa smiled, looking up at him. She closed her eyes as the other Hans tilted her face upwards. Even this did not seem odd to the real Hans…_

…_At least, not until he saw the knife._

_He stumbled to his feet in horror as the other him drew a knife out of his back pocket. Elsa's eyes were still closed, and Hans tried to call out to her, to warn her- but he couldn't make a sound. The other him brought his arm around the petite queen, the knife glinting, poised to strike. Hans tried to rush forward, to shout, to do something, anything—but he'd gone mute and immobile in the same instant. All he could do was shout voicelessly as the other him brought the knife plunging down._

* * *

"Queen Elsa!"

He sat up straight in bed, breathing heavily. His hands were shaking violently, and Hans ran one of them through his hair, looking around.

The room was dark. He was… in bed? His bed. In the Arendellian castle.

Slowly, he realized that it had all been a dream—part memory, part fabrication of his own guilty mind. Elsa was fine. The Queen was _fine_. Everyone was alive and well.

_No thanks to you,_ a snickering voice whispered in the back of his head.

Hans flinched at the accusation, but knew that it was true. Would he have done that to the queen? Yes. Without a doubt. _But I'm not the same now,_ he argued with himself. _I've changed._

_Have you?_ the voice whispered back.

Had he? He had wanted so _desperately_ to be king. If given the opportunity again, could he- would he-?

"Enough," he muttered aloud. "You'll drive yourself mad, thinking like this." More than one hardened criminal had been driven to self-harm by such things; he had faced his demons, fought them, beaten them, over eighteen long months of his personal isolated hell. Whatever anyone else thought, _he_ knew what he'd fought his way back from. _I won't be dragged down that road again._

It was too stuffy in here, he decided. He needed to walk around, get some fresh air. Trying to even out his breathing again, Hans swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed for the bedroom door. Just as his hand landed on it, he paused, fourteen years of custom reminding him that a proper prince _never_ went out in public without gloves. He hesitated, debating whether it would matter at this time of night, especially considering he was in his nightclothes—but then he sighed as force of habit compelled him to grab the pair off his dresser and yank them on, rolling his eyes at the absurdity even as he did so. _Pain's a good teacher, _he mused, locking the door behind him and pocketing the key. If he were still the old him, he'd tell himself to remember that.

The hallways were dark, and Hans had nothing but the silvery light of the moon to guide him as he walked the corridors, still dressed in his bedclothes. Eventually, his wanderings led him to a pair of large oak doors on the second floor, which he recognized as the doors to the library. He opened them quietly and slipped inside.

The library appeared deserted and dark, save for the slight bluish glow in the back he attributed to the moonlight, so he lit a candle and used that to set the other candles in the wall sconces aflame, until the part of the room he was in was filled with a warm light. As he looked around, he found that he was in sort of a sitting parlor area of the library, complete with several cushy armchairs, a couch, and a piano.

His face lit up slightly as he saw the piano, and he walked over, running a hand along the lacquered wooden top. It was a beautiful instrument, a baby grand with white ivory keys and burnished metal pedals. Hans loved music. Playing the piano was one of only two pastimes that had ever helped to settle his mind and calm his senses. Music and sailing, his two passions, were the only things he'd known would never change: the sea would always be blue, and an F-chord was never suddenly going to include a G#.

He sat down at the piano, pressing one of the keys lightly. It rang out softly with a pure, sweet sound. Quietly, he began to press out the melody of a tune, one note at a time.

"That's _Deilig er Jorden."_

He jumped and turned around on the bench. Elsa was looking back at him, dressed in a white nightgown and a heavy navy dressing-robe, holding a red leather-bound book in hand. Her braid was loose and messy, as if she'd been tossing and turning on it, and she had donned a pair of pale pink slippers. Dancing blue snowflakes flitted around her fingers, and he realized that she'd created her own light to read by. For a moment he was too stunned by the apparition—half expecting it to be another nightmare—to find his voice. "U-Um, yes, it is," he said. "I didn't think any Arendellians would recognize it."

"Oh, it's very popular," she commented, walking over to the piano. "What are you doing up?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes, and then admitted, "I couldn't sleep—worrying about the fire, you know. And you?"

"A similar predicament." He neglected to add the fact that the predicament had something to do with her. While he'd thought the queen's presence would make him nervous and uncomfortable, especially after such a dream, he found that the relaxed, contented and very much _alive _Elsa in front of him paradoxically seemed to bring with her a sense of calm, which he found most welcome. Hans nodded to the book in her hand. "What are you reading?"

_"Treatise on Law,"_ she answered, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "It's so heavy that I thought it might help me get some rest, but my mind seems determined to run itself in circles tonight." She gestured to the piano. "Do you play?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Not very well." She smiled a little reminiscently. "Mama used to play _Deilig er Jorden_ every Christmas."

"Really?" he said, surprised. "So did mine, until she passed. I asked my instructor to teach it to me when I was old enough." He paused, and then admitted, "It's always been my favorite."

"How old were you?" she asked hesitantly

"When she died? Eight." His hands shifted slightly on the keys. "She and my father—well, they were never a very happy couple, but that year was the worst. They argued constantly. I think the stress took its toll on her, and…she fell ill. She was gone within the month."

Elsa's eyes were sad, stunned. Her parents' deaths had been hard enough on her as an adult; to lose one's mother while still so young… "I'm so sorry," she said honestly.

"I'm not," he said quietly. "She would be appalled, to see what her family has become."

Elsa bit her lip and looked away, unsure what to say. Eventually, she settled on, "Could I hear you play?"

He shrugged wordlessly, and began to play again. His hands moved across the keys effortlessly, and Elsa began to sing softly.

"_Deilig er jorden,_

_prektig er Guds himmel,_

_Skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsgang!"_

"_Gjennom de fagre," _he joined in,

"_riker på jorden,_

_går vi til paradis med sang."_

They finished in harmony. For a moment, the note hung in the air, and then faded off into silence.

"…You play very well," Elsa said finally.

"Yes, well… I had very good training," he deflected.

"Do you mind if I read a little?" she said, gesturing to a couch a few feet away.

"By all means. If you want me to stop…?"

"No, please, continue. It's… it's lovely."

No one had ever praised his playing so highly before—indeed, no one had ever so much as noticed. At least two of his brothers had played with better craft growing up, and shown off with more respectable pieces than Christmas carols. "…Thank you," he said uncertainly. Elsa smiled slightly and nodded, sitting down on the couch.

Hans began to play again, more quietly than before. When he got through the piece, he turned around to see if he were distracting Elsa from her reading. Much to his surprise, he found that the Queen had fallen asleep. She was lying on the couch, snoring softly with her book still in hand.

Hans smiled despite himself, stood up, and walked over. She looked so peaceful, much less like a queen and much more like a carefree young woman. Careful not to wake her, he disentangled her fingers from the book and laid it down on the ground beside her, marking the page. He reached for the blue woolen blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over her gently. Whether or not the Queen felt the cold, he didn't know, but he felt he owed that much to her.

_But some part of him made him reach for the thin gray blanket off to the side and drape it over the queen, whether she felt the cold or not._

He took a sharp breath, stunned, for before his eyes there had flashed another, almost identical image of the Queen: exhausted, alone, unconscious and terrified. He let go of the blanket, baffled. The same sensation he'd had all those months ago in the cold, dirty cell had resurfaced, but in a much stronger, more potent form. He tried to put a finger on it. Satisfaction? No. Concern? That was close, but not quite…

_Tenderness._

The word came to him as easily as if someone had whispered it to him, and as he realized that it was right, he stumbled backwards as if struck. _What in the world…?_

He stared at Elsa, so innocent and harmless in her unconscious state, and felt a sense of dread again replace the traitorous feeling of affection. It couldn't be. _It couldn't be._ There was no way that he could possibly be so _stupid_ as to–

Without really thinking about it, he turned and began to walk very quickly out of the library. Faster and faster he walked, until he broke into a run. By the time he finally reached his room, his bubbling panic had spilled over the sides.

He burst into the little bathroom in his chambers and slammed the door behind him, bracing himself against the sink. His own labored breathing did not cease even then, for the memories refused to stop—

_—"Oh, Anna," he said in fake pity, smirking. "If only there were someone out there who loved you."—_

_—"Your sister is dead!" Elsa stared, disbelieving, and he delivered the final blow. "…Because of you..."—_

_—He swung the sword, grinning as he felt the success course through his veins, he was so close, so close!—_

He came to and found himself staring into green eyes. He blinked. So did the eyes. After a moment, he realized he was looking at his own reflection in the bathroom vanity.

"Look at you," he whispered hoarsely to the Hans on the other side of the glass. "You fool, you damned _fool. _How could you not have noticed this happening?"

His reflection offered no reply, but Hans needed none. "Do you think she could care for you after what you did to her?" he demanded of himself. "To her sister?" He shook his head, feeling sick to his stomach. The whole room seemed too small, and he felt almost feverish, too hot and too cold at the same time. How? How could this have happened? He'd tried to- to kill this woman; how could he possibly…?

"She can't know," he decided aloud. "If she ever found out… No. You're lucky she's helping you. That she _trusts _you. Don't risk everything for some absurd fancy." Again he saw, less sharply than before, his own hand drawing the sword. "She could _never_ feel the same, so don't insult her by deluding yourself."

His own haggard expression looked back at him, and Hans sighed. He stripped off his gloves and ran the taps, splashing his face with cool water. Everything was alright. Everything was _fine. _For goodness' sake, he'd managed to fool Anna into believing he was in love with her, surely he could shut down these emotions for the Queen's sake?

Yes, he could, he decided as he shut off the taps. He could and he would, because he had to. He owed these people at least that much. Elsa could never learn he'd entertained such thoughts, not after what he'd done. And besides, for the first time in his life he had a future, an opportunity for real freedom—one that definitely did not involve trying to court the queen. If he shut down these feelings, they would pass.

He straightened up and wiped his face dry, ignoring the little voice that whispered as he walked out of the bathroom, _well, at least, he hoped they would._

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Intense chapter; I hope you all enjoyed it. ****By the way, ten magical snowflakes to anyone who recognized the book Elsa was reading. ; ) _Pax et bonum!_**


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: The * asterisks you see will be to references in the footnotes at the bottom of the page.**

* * *

"Kristoff!"

The ice harvester looked up, surprised, as the door to his room burst open. Anna waved a cheery hello. "Happy Saturday!"

"Hey, Anna." He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Why did she have to be here now? He'd managed to evade her all of Thursday, even after he'd finished his work, and even all of Friday, but apparently she'd tracked him down again. That was his own fault, he supposed; after all, he'd been the one stupid enough to stay in his room too long.

"Whatcha doin'?" she said happily, bounding over to where he was sitting at his desk.

"Uh- just the grain report. Thought, you know, I'd get a head start on it. Don't wanna push it off too long."

"Oh, okay. Well, can you take a break for a little bit?"

"Why?" he said, without committing to an answer.

"I just needed to talk to you about the cake real quick. The cook is wondering if we still wanted the frosted flowers on it, or if it should be changed to snowflakes, since Elsa's 'getting married' too and all." She mimed big air-quotes.

"Um- I dunno, do whatever you want." He stood up, gathering his things.

"Where are you going?" Anna said, frowning a little in confusion.

"Just uh-" _Where was he going? He had to think up some excuse._ "To talk to some of the families of my guys, y'know, the ice harvesters. Gotta make my rounds."

"Really? That sounds like fun! Can I come with?"

Her expression was so eager that it made his stomach twist even tighter with guilt at having lied to her. "No, I think I should do this on my own."

"Oh…" She trailed off, looking a little disappointed. "Well… have a good time." She offered him a hopeful smile.

He couldn't stand that smile; it made him feel like such a weasel. "Um, yeah. I will. Thanks." He quickly hurried away, shutting the door behind him.

As it clicked shut, Anna's smile faded, and she looked at the wooden paneling of the door. _Is he avoiding me?_

* * *

"-I mean, he just randomly started disappearing all the time, like he doesn't want me to find him, and as soon as I do, he leaves again! What's with that? Do you think he's trying to avoid me? What if I'm annoying him? What if he feels like I'm getting push and bossy? Oh no, what if I _am_ getting pushy and bossy?" She looked down at her companion, worried. "I'm just overthinking this, right?"

The duckling looked back up at her and answered, _"Quack!"_

She sighed, leaning against the back of the bench. Even in winter, the garden was still beautiful. "Yeah, I know. I must be reading into this too much. He's probably just really busy, that's all." She bit her lip. "But what should I do about it?"

The duckling gave another low quack, and Anna frowned sternly. "No way! I am _not_ going to Elsa about something as small as this! I mean, she's already got enough on her plate, having to pretend she's marrying Prince Shmarming and all that." She huffed, annoyed. "What I wouldn't do to give that guy the old one-two!" She jabbed with her fist into the air in front of her like her little cotton gloves were boxing mitts.

When she looked down again, she saw a line of ducklings following a mother duck stop in front of her. The mother duck honked at her, irritated, and Anna gasped and quickly put the duckling down. "Sorry! Here, ducky; go back with your mama."

The duckling quacked happily, and followed the mother duck and his siblings off into the white wonderland. Anna sighed as she watched them, especially the mother duck. "You're such a good mom," she said wistfully. "Does that just come naturally to you? Is it hardwired into you? Do you think I have that?" A horrible idea dawned on her. "What if I don't? What if there's something just, I don't know, un-motherly about me?"

It was such an awful thought that she quickly covered her hand with her mouth, as if just speaking the words were bad. But what if it were true? Ever since her little talk with the Southern king, she'd been wondering more and more if she were mature enough to get married, have children. As much as she _wanted_ to have that little gaggle of strawberry-blonde toddlers running around, what if she turned out to be a terrible mother? Or worse, what if she were a terrible _wife?_ Sure, she was a good girlfriend and fiancé, but that was a whole lot different than being married to somebody. Normally, she would have talked to Kristoff about this sort of thing, but it was pretty clear that Kristoff didn't want to talk right now.

"One day at a time," she repeated to herself, taking a deep breath. "You can worry about that later. Right now, you need to talk to Cook about the cake."

She stood up, brushed the snow off her skirt, and headed for the garden gate. _One day at a time…_

* * *

Sunday morning was slightly overcast, but no snow fell upon the bustling town, probably by the Queen's design. The bells for morning Mass began to ring around eight forty-five, and again, Hans found himself the first in the church. As he headed for the stairwell, a voice stopped him. "Son?"

He turned, and saw Bishop Willum standing a few paces away. "Your Excellency."

"Please, call me Willum; everyone does. I never could do with all that 'excellency' business. I just wanted you to know that there will be a choir today; the director was a little under the weather last week, but she seems to be up on her feet again now. I'm afraid the loft will be quite full."

"Oh." His heart sunk a little at that, but he rather liked the bishop and didn't want to disappoint him by missing the service. "Yes, well, thank you for informing me." As other parishioners started to file in, Hans took a seat in the middle back, which was a little more in shadows than the rest of the church and, hopefully, not as conspicuous.

His hopes, unfortunately, were unfounded. Despite the fact that he'd chosen to sit in the least noticeable place possible, the churchgoers still all seemed to look right at him as they walked in. The kinder ones appeared surprised, and then quickly glanced away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable; others, however, were less sensitive and gawked openly, while a good portion went so far as to glare at him accusingly. Hans swallowed and tried to ignore them, but it was more difficult than he'd thought. As Anna, Elsa and Kristoff walked into the church, the first of the trio saw him, and her eyes widened, before narrowing again and pointedly looking away.

Eventually, the whole chapel was full—even the row he was in, although the people to his right and left looked rather unhappy about their seating location. As soon as the bishop started the service, the whispers began to fly. Hans tried to pay attention to what was going on, but it was made impossible by the fact that the repetitive Latin was drowned out by the low, angry murmurs. All throughout the readings and chants, he could hear their disgruntled undertones, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"Today we hear the warning of Johan the Baptist to the Pharisees, and his order to bear good fruits as a sign of repentance…"

He started slightly when he heard the bishop begin his sermon in the common language, but his attention was quickly drawn away again by the muttering. He'd made a terrible mistake, he could see that now. Everyone was staring at him. He could hear their whispers under Willum's drone, to which no one was really paying attention.

"…What is he doing in here?"

"How dare he presume…"

_"Murderer."_

The last one stung, but others just as quickly followed. He kept his eyes fixed determinedly on the wood grain of the pew in front of him, but it couldn't stop him from hearing their low, accusing inquiries, prickling the back of his neck. He wanted to sink through the floor or run out the door, but neither was much of an option, and all he could do was sit there and feel the heavy weight of shame bend his head lower and lower. He'd been such a fool, to think he belonged here with them, pretending he was a good man when they all _knew_ what he'd done-

_"Ahem!"_

At the sound of someone loudly clearing his throat, the whispers stopped and everyone turned to look forward, startled. Hans glanced up quickly, and then back down. Willum had stopped speaking, and indeed it was he who had coughed, drawing the congregation's attention back to him. Hans didn't dare raise his eyes again, but he knew what had to be coming, and he felt the humiliation rise hot in his cheeks. Kind though the bishop was, certainly even he wouldn't allow his service to be disrupted by the prince's presence. He sat with his head down, waiting with trepidation for the bishop to clear his throat again and quietly ask him to leave.

"But you know, it's very interesting, isn't it?" Willum said suddenly, in a different tone than before; it was louder, more direct, and caused the prince to look up again in surprise. The bishop folded up the piece of paper with his homily on it as if it were no longer needed and stepped away from the lectern, beginning to pace in front of the altar. "I think perhaps we fall into the trap of believing that these people we read about were perfect," Willum continued, voice pleasant and conversational, but beneath it, there was a steely message that he intended to get across. "They weren't very clean-cut characters, oh Heavens, no. Why, who would have believed that the ancestor of a great nation would be a traitor who sold his own brother into slavery? Or that a beloved king would betray his friend and send him to his death to wed his wife?" Willum paused, and looked straight at Hans. "Or that a prince who had committed a heinous crime, the crime of murder," he said, voice soft, "would one day lead his people from oppression?"

It was so quiet, one could have heard a pin drop.

"No, they were not very _respectable_ people," Willum said, speaking again to the whole congregation, all of whom looked away uncomfortably as he met their eyes. "Many were tax collectors and thieves and even murderers. But strangely enough, when compassion was shown to them, they transformed in spectacular fashion. Where would they be, without mercy—or where would we, for that matter? Just as mercy without justice is dishonesty, so justice without mercy is _hypocrisy_. We must be careful, therefore, not to become hypocrites, and fall into the trap of believing somehow that we are better than the traitors and sinners. Yet, when forgiveness is chosen over anger, when empathy is employed instead of bitterness, we bring a great change over the world. As we all want to be forgiven, so we, too, must also forgive. That, my friends, is the lesson of today's readings. In fact, it is the lesson of Christmas itself."

The church was dead silent. Willum gave a short nod and walked up to the altar.

And nobody dared whisper again.

* * *

When the service was over, the prince was surprised to see that many of the people's attitudes had changed. While a few still shot him dirty looks, many more made it a point to tell him "good morning," or at least awkwardly avoid looking at him. Hans wanted to thank the bishop, but the church was too crowded to get through at the start, and before he could cut through, a hand caught at his elbow.

He looked back, startled, and saw Princess Anna chewing on her bottom lip. "Um, hey," she said, quickly letting go of his arm. "I was wondering…could we maybe talk?"

"Oh- I suppose," he said, startled. "What is it?"

She fiddled with her hands and looked around at the remaining parishioners. Hans understood, and they waited for the others to leave. Once the church was empty, she said, "Listen, Hans…I think there's something I need to say."

His heart sunk at her nervous tone. It was the first time Anna had spoken to him in private since that fateful day in the study_._ "Princess, I-"

"Just- don't speak, okay?" Anna said awkwardly, wringing her hands. Hans closed his mouth and waited for her to continue. "Look, um… what Willum said, it really got to me, y'know? Like, 'cause everybody messes up, I mean, I know I mess up, although to be fair you _really_ take the cake on that…" She cut off her babbling and let out a sigh. "Look, I know I've been terrible to you ever since you got here."

"I don't blame you-"

"I said not to speak," she cut in, and then apologized. "Sorry. I just need to get this all out before I lose my nerve. So, um… like I said, I've been… I've been pretty mean. And no matter what you did, that's not okay, you know? And… And I want to say that I'm sorry."

He blinked. "You're…apologizing? To _me?"_

"You…you _really_ hurt me, Hans." His eyes found the ground at this, and Anna bit her lip before continuing. "But I don't like holding grudges, not even against you. So… I'm forgiving you."

Han's mouth fell open in shock, and it took him a moment to find his voice. "Anna- Princess Anna- I don't understand. I- I broke your heart, I left you for dead. You tolerating my presence here is 'forgiveness' enough; you don't owe me your– your trust or your friendship, or anything at all. You don't owe me a second chance."

"I know," she said simply. "And I'm not giving you one. This isn't me saying I _trust_ you, Prince Hans." She met his gaze, and he forced himself not to look away, even though her eyes were beginning to fill with angry tears. "You _broke_ that trust."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you understand?" She crossed her arms as if cold and looked away. When she spoke again her voice was slightly broken. "…It took me a long time to trust _anyone_ again. Even Kristoff. Even Elsa. When someone _lies_ to you and _uses_ you like that—you stop knowing what's true and what's not. You start to think _everyone_ is selfish and cruel, that everyone lies and cheats and manipulates others. You think that's the way the world is."

Hans didn't speak. He'd gone through this conversation a million times in his head, and somehow, it was not playing out in any way he'd imagined. For every time he'd fantasized about her forgiving him completely and absolving him of his sins, there'd been ten self-deprecating visions of her screaming and condemning him, and heaping as much abuse on him as he deserved. Here, in the face of the real thing, both suddenly seemed equally self-serving.

"But then…you find out it's not. You find out most people really _are_ good, and kind. And you realize you don't have to be selfish, to be safe." She looked up. He fought not to look away. "And one night, I thought about that. About how maybe nobody ever proved that to you."

"That doesn't excuse what I did," he said instantly.

"No. It doesn't."

There was a long silence. She stared him down. Her eyes were like pins on a moth; he wanted to run away, but he couldn't.

"You _hurt_ me."

"I know."

"You broke my heart. You broke my _trust."_

"I know."

"And I'm forgiving you."

"Why?" he demanded. "I haven't done anything to earn it, I haven't–"

"Because it's not really about you," Anna said simply. "Or about me, even. I mean, trust me, if I wanted to feel better about the whole thing, I'd go eat a box of chocolates or something. But…" She sighed. "But, I know what it's like, to feel… shut out. And whether or not you deserve it, _I_ don't want to be the kind of person who does that to other people." Her blue-green eyes were determined. "I don't want to do that to _anyone,_ no matter what. And…you need me to forgive you. Because if I don't, nobody else can, either."

She was so sincere, so fiercely genuine that Hans knew she had to be telling the truth. "You… really want to forgive me?" he said, just to make sure.

"I really do."

He stared, and then bowed humbly. "Princess Anna, I am incredibly indebted to your kindness. If you are willing to pardon me, after all I've done to you and your kingdom… I am grateful, beyond belief."

She smiled sadly. It was an older and wiser smile than he remembered. "This doesn't mean we're friends."

"I know."

"But maybe we could be, someday. I'm willing to let that happen, if you can prove to me you've earned it."

He was so floored by this final bit of kindness that he couldn't speak for several moments, his eyes finally dropping to the carpet. It was a relief to stop staring into the blazing sun of her hurt and her clemency. "…I'm not so ungrateful," he said at last, "as to wallow in my guilt after an offer like that. Thank you. I'd…I'd like to hope that someday, I could earn back your trust. After a lot of hard work, obviously."

"We'll see." And then she patted his arm. "Have a good afternoon…Prince Hans."

She left, and he ran a hand through his red hair, incredulous. It hurt, but it also felt is if a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. As he turned, he saw Willum standing at the door to the sacristy room. "Thank you," he said gratefully, knowing that he'd made this happen.

The older man smiled. "For what?" And he disappeared into the room once more.

* * *

**A/N: The verse being read for the Gospel is Matthew 3:1-12, the reading used on the second Sunday of advent in liturgical year A.**

**The Biblical figures referenced here are Judah, King David and Moses, respectively.**

**I really hope you liked it. : ) Please tell me what you think! Also, happy Santa Lucia Day!**


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: Arachnerd, SetsunaKou: *blushing* you guys are the best. Thank you so much. I'm glad I was able to communicate some of the truth I've received in a beautiful way; that's all I've ever wanted to do with my stories, and I'm so grateful to hear that my writing meant so much to you.**

* * *

Monday found Kristoff sitting in a dusty old study in some obscure corner of the castle, peering through his glasses at nearly two-dozen sheets of paper. The legal language was just about giving him an aneurism, and it didn't help that he was hardly able to concentrate on the report at all.

All he could think about was Anna. Or, rather, how unsuited he was for her. Sure, he loved her to death- but was that enough? He wasn't just marrying some farmer girl or a miller's daughter; he was marrying the crown princess of Arendelle, the sole heir to the throne in the case anything unfortunate happened to her beloved sister. That meant that he was going to be the crown prince: the heir to the rule of Arendelle. A potential king. Goodness knew Kristoff wasn't a king. Sure, he was smart—in a common-sense sort of way. Yeah, he knew business and persuasion and all those tricks of the trade—but how helpful would they be as a member of the royal court?

_You're driving yourself nuts,_ he could almost hear Sven say in his head. _Anna loves you, doesn't she?_

But whoever said that that was enough? What if he wasn't good enough for the throne? What if he wasn't good enough for _Anna?_ What if one day, she caught on that her big, bumbling oaf of a husband was the furthest thing from a prince? What if one day, she finally saw he was just some bumpkin who got lucky when he walked into the trading post that crazy July day? What if one day, she woke up and realized she'd made _the biggest mistake of her life?_

"There you are!"

He just about fell out of his chair. Starting and turning to the left, he saw Anna herself smiling at him. Was it just his imagination, or did she look a little nervous?

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, plopping down in the armchair beside him. "I need your help."

"Huh? With what?" Already he was beginning to surreptitiously move his papers into a stack and take off his glasses, preparing to leave.

"It's Cook again. She wants you to taste the main dishes she has to see which one we should have?"

"Just tell her to take the one you like," Kristoff said, standing up. "I trust your judgment." _In food, at least._

Anna frowned slightly. "Hey… you feeling okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

"Well…you were missing all yesterday, and the day before that, and before that…" She bit her lip, standing up and clasping her hands in front of her. "I'm just worried about you."

His stomach twisted even tighter. Great. He'd made her worry about him. Some fiancé he was. "I'm fine," he said again. It came out sounding less sincere than he meant it to.

"You sure?" she said doubtfully.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Would I say it if I weren't sure?" He was hoping she'd take his slightly annoyed tone as her hint to leave.

"Well, sometimes you try to, y'know, just ignore stuff like that, and besides, I feel like you've been hiding from me." When he didn't answer right away, her frown deepened. "What, have you?"

"No, I- no, of course not."

"Then why do you keep disappearing whenever I try to find you?" she said, crossing her arms.

"I've been—busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Things!"

"Kristoff, I know you're trying to avoid me!" she insisted, finally laying her cards on the table. "Why? At least give me an answer!"

"Look, Anna, I just need some time to myself, okay?" Kristoff said irritably, turning to go.

"I've given you time! I've given you plenty of time!" she said, finally fed up. "I feel like I haven't seen you all week! Kristoff, _what is going on?"_ she grabbed at his shirtsleeve, but he yanked his arm away.

"Look, can't you just leave me alone?!" he demanded, whirling around. "All you ever do is nag me and I'm getting pretty sick of it!"

Anna took a step back, stunned. "…S-sorry," she said, voice small. "I-I didn't realize…"

"Yeah, well…" Her eyes were so sad that he instantly felt guilty, but he didn't want to apologize because he was worried Anna would start pressing the matter, and then everything would really spiral out of control. "Just…let me be, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed quietly. "Um…see ya." She hesitated, and then turned and left.

Kristoff sighed as he heard her footsteps walk away on the carpet. Great. Now he _really_ felt guilty. But at least she hadn't pushed. She hadn't figured it out yet, just how worried he was that he'd be an inadequate prince, an inadequate husband for a princess like her.

But even as he sat down again to his paperwork, he couldn't help but wonder if he even had the _right_ to marry Anna. What made him any better than Hans, really? Wasn't he banking on her kind, unquestioning nature just as much as that creep had? Wasn't he, too, pretending he'd be a good prince? At least Hans had had the proper training. What did he have? A reindeer, a saw, a sleigh and a lute? Practically nothing. That was when the worst thought of all hit: _What if Hans had been the better choice?_

At any other point, Kristoff would have rejected this thought with a snort. But staring down at a pile of papers and a future uncertain, with guilt twisting in his stomach, the thought stuck. And if a maniac who left Anna for dead could possibly be the more sensible option…

…What did that make _him?_

* * *

Hans, meanwhile, was likewise trying not to be found. The castle gardens were bare and covered in snow, and thankfully empty. Although the air was cold, Hans took off his white gloves and laid them on top of a low brick wall, leaning his elbows on the edge of it with a sigh.

For the past several days, he'd been intentionally avoiding Elsa, making sure to never go anywhere she may be found—the royal chamber corridor, the library, the studies, etc. The tenderness and affection he'd felt that night in the library quite honestly terrified him. He knew that he, of all people, had no right to have any sort of- of _feelings_ for the Arendellian queen. The whole idea was so absurd it would have made him laugh, if the situation weren't so serious.

_And you've acted like such an ass around her, too._ He hadn't meant to; he'd intended to play—genuinely—the part of the penitent, to behave as politely and silently contrite towards her as he'd been towards her sister. With Anna it had been easy; accepting her wrath and trying to intrude on the princess's life as little as possible had come almost naturally, once he'd mastered the selfish impulse to defend his (thoroughly tainted) honor. _Queen Elsa, on the other hand..._ His resolution to quiet remorse had shattered almost immediately in her presence. There was just something about the queen that made him want to defend himself—no, to _show off._

_You've been strutting around like a damned adolescent peacock from the moment she knocked you down in the library. _His face heated with color, both embarrassed and ashamed. The plan had been simple: present his solution politely and with deference, along with his apology, and then plead for her assistance—and then she'd thrown him _into a bookcase_ and wounded his pride and somehow he just hadn't been able to help himself. Now he had a pretty good idea of why. _You're an idiot. A bastard and an idiot. How could you have messed this up?_

But it was no good chiding himself; the damage was already done. Hoping to dispel some of the nervous energy, he stepped away from the wall and drew his sword out of its sheath. Walking three steps forward and swinging the blade experimentally, he cut through an imaginary opponent with a cross-body slice and turned a full circle, ending with a finishing blow and a somewhat theatrical, "Hah!"

"Wow!"

He looked over, surprised, and saw the little snowman Elsa had created looking at him with awe. "Oh. Uh–" He tried to re-sheath the sword, missed, and then managed to stick the blade back in its scabbard.

"You're really good!" the snowman exclaimed, wide-eyed and enthralled. "Where'd you learn to do that, huh?"

"Um- I… was trained. When I was younger." Hans had no clue what to say. For goodness' sake, he was talking to a _snowman!_ What did one do in that sort of a situation?

"Oh, that's cool." The little snowman waddled over. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" He held out his arms wide.

Hans raised both eyebrows and said, "Er, yes, well… I'm Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles."

"You're- oh!" Olaf's eyes went wide as he suddenly recognized the man, and Hans looked away, biting his tongue. A moment passed, and the snowman said uncomfortably. "Well…now this is awkward. I mean, you sort of broke my friend's heart and went after my other friend and all that, so…"

"Thank you," Hans said sarcastically, "for captioning the obvious. Now if you'll excuse me–" He made as if to leave.

"Oh no you don't!" Olaf said, jumping off the bench. "You're not going anywhere, buddy!"

"Not to be rude, but you can't really stop me," Hans pointed out, still walking.

"Oh yeah?" The snowman got in front and started to push against Hans's legs in a valiant but futile effort. Hans, a little impressed at his tenacity, actually stopped walking as the snowman started to futilely beat the prince's legs with his little twig fists. Eventually Olaf wore himself out, and flopped down on the ground, leaning with his head against Hans's ankle. "I'll- get- you- next time," he panted out.

Deciding to take pity on the little guy, Hans sat down a nearby bench. "Thanks," Olaf wheezed as he hopped up beside him. "I needed a breather."

"From venting your frustration on my shins?" Hans muttered under his breath.

"Yeah." Olaf looked at him, a very hurt frown on his face. "I just don't get it. I mean, who could ever want to hurt _Anna?_ Or Elsa? I mean, they're the warmest, nicest people I know."

"That makes two of us," Hans agreed, thinking about how willingly Anna had shown him mercy.

"I mean, Anna said you seemed like a pretty nice guy, and then just, _wham!"_ He smacked his little stick hands together. "It just… it doesn't make any sense. Why would anyone do something like that?"

Hans let out a low sigh. "It's… complicated."

"Oh." Olaf frowned again, sitting down on the bench. "Anyways, I don't think I wanna give you a hug anymore."

"I don't blame you," Hans said quietly.

Surprised, Olaf looked over and frowned at Hans slightly. "Hey, you're really sorry, aren't you?" The auburn-haired man didn't answer, but Olaf understood anyway. "Oh, I didn't realize you felt bad about it! I'm sorry; I can still give you a hug, if you want."

Still a little creeped out by the snowman, Hans shook his head warily. "No, that's- that's fine."

"Well, okay then." Olaf's spirits seemed a little uplifted, and he stood up again on the bench. "So you and Elsa are getting married?"

"Um-" He wondered if the Queen had told Olaf about their little 'arrangement,' and decided that she probably hadn't- after all, it was a bit complicated for the obviously very simple snowman, and besides, he didn't seem the sort to be able to keep a secret. "Yes. We are."

"But you don't love each other?"

_I suppose you could call it a little one-sided,_ Hans thought ruefully. "…Not exactly."

"Then why are you getting married?" He seemed truly baffled by this. "Anna and Kristoff are getting married because they're in love."

"It's a political marriage," Hans said, unsure whether to be irritated or amused by the snowman's naivety.

"Ohhh," Olaf said, as if this explained everything, even though he was still clearly confused. "So… isn't that going to be awkward? Since she doesn't like you and all…"

Hans couldn't help but chuckle grimly at that. "Yes, I'd imagine so." He shrugged his shoulders. "But that's just the way things are."

Olaf had adopted a sort of pondering look on his face, a comical expression for him. "Well… why don't you change that?"

Hans looked down, surprised. "What?"

"Sure. I mean, Anna and Elsa weren't very close at all, in the beginning, but now—I mean, they do just about _everything_ together."

"That's different."

"Why? Why couldn't you two be friends?"

Hans was about to retort with the obvious—_because Elsa never meant to hurt Anna, because they'd always loved each other and just never showed it, because they're sisters and I'm the megalomaniac who went sword-crazy—_when he paused to think about it. Surely, he and Elsa had been far more civil lately, and while pursuing the _new development _(he still hadn't decided what to call it) was certainly out of the question, there was no reason they couldn't at least be _friendly_ towards each other. And besides, avoiding the woman like she had the Black Death was undoubtedly _not_ the best strategy for fooling his brother.

"You know, Olaf, that's not a terrible idea," he said, surprised. "Thank you."

"Oh yeah, no problem," the snowman said, happy to have been of help. "Well, I'm gonna go talk to Sven; see ya!" He waddled away.

The gears in Hans's mind had started to turn. Friends. They could be friends, or at least acquaintances. Hans hadn't had a friend in a long time—in fact, he couldn't remember an instance in which he could honestly have called someone a trusted companion. He had the feeling that it was the same with Elsa, save of course for her sister and Kristoff.

Perhaps it was possible; after all, he had nothing to lose by trying. He could be charming, kind, generous, fair—everything he'd been with Anna, only this time, it would have to be honest. That was the rub: honesty. Honesty got people hurt. Honesty was a fantastic way to get betrayed, or worse. But then again, he and Elsa were already in on an execution-worthy conspiracy; as before, he had little to lose by trusting her.

_Well,_ he decided, _the first thing I should do is stop trying to evade her. But I'll wait until tomorrow, when I've had time to think this through._

And with this thought in mind, he stood up and headed out of the garden.

* * *

**A/N: Hello, everyone! The semester is finally finished, so I was able to post these chapters this morning. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; please review!**


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

The man watched the sky with furrowed brow. Despite the fact that this far north and so late in the year the sun only shone a few hours a day, it was a welcome few hours for the man, a time to go out of his tent and feed the reindeer. As he did so, he watched the creeping advance of what appeared to be clouds on the horizon. Lighter clouds had covered the sky overnight, but a darker storm was approaching on the horizon. Even as he looked, the clouds' speed overhead seemed to be accelerating.

"What are you looking at?" a voice asked. The man glanced over to see another looking back at him. Both wore warm reindeer-skin tunics, with woollen clothes in hues of blue and scarlet peeking through at the collar, and their language was not that of the Arendelians to the south.

"The sky," the first answered, going back to feeding his reindeer. "A storm is coming, a big one. I've been watching it for a few hours now."

The second shrugged. "It's winter; there will always be storms."

"Not like this. Can't you see it?" He nodded again to the horizon, over the frozen tundra. "It's moving too fast; I don't like it. I think we should leave."

"Leave? We have only just settled here; we should stay at least until spring."

The man hesitated, and then shook his head. "There's something wrong about that storm, Dávvet; I don't trust it." He couldn't explain it, not logically; he'd seen bad winter storms before, and after a lifetime living at the mercies of the harsh northern weather, he knew in his heart that this was different. There was something unnatural in the way the clouds were moving, the way the unceasing winds blew straight from the north without variation. "I won't risk my family's safety."

"Where will you go?"

"South. To Arendelle."

His neighbor laughed, but it was a laugh without humor. "I'd rather risk the storm."

"There are good people in all places. Perhaps we can seek shelter there."

"Then I wish you luck, if you're decided. But don't be surprised if we're not here when you return."

And that was what the man did. The other herders watched on as he and his family tore down their tent, packed their belongings onto the back of their sled and two of their reindeer, and started south.

"Where are we going, Papa?" the man's young daughter asked him, as his wife held their infant son close.

"Somewhere we will be safe."

* * *

"It's here, it's here, I can't believe it!"

The dressing room doors burst open, and Elsa jumped about three feet in the air, having just finished braiding her hair. "Anna!"

"Oh, this is so _amazing,_ I gotta try it on!" Her sister was talking a mile a minute, with Gerda in tow, carrying something that was wrapped in soft cream linen.

"Anna, calm down and tell me _what_ is here and _why,"_ Elsa commanded in a slower voice.

"My wedding dress, of course!" Anna exclaimed, breathless. "I can't believe it; I was worried it wouldn't get here in time!"

Elsa smiled, happy to see her sister so excited. Gerda set the dress down on a table and unfolded the linen. Anna's bubbly speech faded off as she stared at the soft, white silk. "Wow," she said softly.

"Go ahead; try it on," Elsa encouraged gently.

Anna picked up the dress by the waist and bit her lip. "Are you sure?" she said hesitantly.

"It's _your _wedding dress," Elsa said with a chuckle.

"Right. I know that. Yeah." She disappeared behind the changing screen, and then after a few moments called out, "Gerda, I need help with the back."

"Oh, of course, m'Lady." Elsa waited patiently as the matronly maid went behind the screen and helped Anna, before the younger sister said nervously, "O-Okay… I'm ready."

She walked out from behind the screen, and Elsa pressed a hand to her mouth, stunned. Her little sister had never looked so…so _grown up._ The dress was beautiful, with a full skirt and a laced bodice, a true Victorian collar and intricate stitching in flower motifs all around the edges of the skirt and on the two halves of the bodice. A large sheer veil completed the look. "Oh, Anna…" Elsa said, voice soft.

"Do you think it looks alright?" Anna said, biting her lip in worry.

"Alright? You look…" She couldn't even find the word, instead choosing to fill it by walking forward and hugging her sister. Anna grinned and hugged her back. "Lovely," Elsa said finally, drawing away. "You look absolutely lovely, Anna."

Gerda sniffed. "Your sister is right," she said, wiping her eyes. "Oh, I always wondered when this day would come… both of you, getting married…" She sniffled again and dropped her gaze, embarrassed by her sudden tears. "I'm sorry, m'Ladies."

"No, no; don't be," Anna gushed. "Thank you so much."

"I'll leave you two together," the housekeeper said, eyes still glimmering with tears. She curtsied and left, leaving the door open behind her.

"Kristoff is going to love it," Elsa promised.

Anna's happy expression turned to concern. "You think so? I really want him to…"

"I _know_ so," Elsa assured her. "You look beautiful, Anna."

"You do," a voice said from the doorway, and both looked over to see Hans standing there, smiling a little. "Quite lovely."

"Came to see what you missed out on?" Anna said, but to Elsa's surprise, her voice wasn't bitter.

"Not intentionally, but fate must have had its hand in things. May I come in? I need a word with the Queen."

"If you like." Elsa raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. Clearly something had been done to amend the rift between the two of them, and while it baffled her, she wasn't about to ruin the apparent truce. Hans walked in and closed the door as Anna turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror, next to the wardrobe. "I can't believe it fits so well; I was sure they'd have to hem it or something. That's really lucky, isn't it?"

"Either that, or you just haven't grown in the six months since you sent them your measurements," Elsa pointed out wryly.

"Yeah, but still…" She sighed wistfully. "I guess I should change back, huh? Knowing me, I'll probably trip into some sort of mess if I keep it on too long."

"You can use my room," Elsa said, retrieving her normal clothes from behind the screen.

"Thanks." She took the dress in hand and quickly hurried over to Elsa's changing room, closing the door behind her.

Hans and Elsa were left in silence. The Queen sat down on the sofa. "You said you wanted a word with me?"

He retrieved an envelope from inside his jacket and passed it over. "A messenger arrived in the stables some ten minutes ago. Looked dead on his feet; he said to pass this on to you. I think he must have thought I was a groom, since I was looking after Sitron."

Elsa opened it and scanned the contents. "There's a storm approaching from the north. It's still quite a ways away, but it looks like it'll be ugly if it reaches Arendelle. Nothing I can't take care of." She folded the letter again. "Thank you."

"Certainly."

There was another uncomfortable silence. After a moment, the prince added, "That compliment was sincere, by the way; your sister truly did look beautiful."

"Jealous?" Elsa commented, voice only a little barbed.

"Well, I certainly don't pity Mr. Bjorgman, if that's what you mean."

Elsa smiled. "They're going to be very happy together."

"And you?"

"And I, what?"

"Your dress. Don't you have one?"

Elsa shook her head. "There wouldn't be time to have it sent; I'm making my own."

"Making it?" She gestured with her hand, and a little puff of snowflakes appeared. "Ah. Clever."

"Well, I figure it'd be better to make a dress than to buy one I'll never use," she explained.

Hans glanced around the room and then looked at her pointedly. Elsa shook her head. "I checked the room before I came in; there are no spies in here. I assumed you didn't see anyone on your way in?"

"No one."

"Then we're fine."

Hans nodded towards the door. "So your little sister is getting married. Isn't the Queen usually the first to wed?"

"Stop that; you'll make me feel like an old maid," Elsa chuckled, though she didn't look too offended. "You and my council; you should have heard some of their attempts to persuade me to marry one duke or another. At least this false engagement gets them to leave me alone for a while."

"So you don't want to get married someday?" Hans said, surprised.

"Whether I 'want' it or not has very little to do with the matter; what I really need is a few years to get used to being a queen before I add having a husband into the equation. I assume that's about how long I can hold off my council before they set up an arranged marriage."

"You know, most women wouldn't say that with such…" He tried to find a word.

"Nonchalance?"

"Willingness. Weren't you the one who said 'you can't marry a man you just met'?"

"Fair point," she conceded. "But it was different with Anna than it is with me."

"Why?"

"Because she was looking for love, and I'm not." She shrugged. "I've known since I was a girl that I wouldn't have as wide a range of options for my husband and that I'd be expected to have children, so that there would be a direct heir to the throne. I didn't want Anna taking that sort of gift for granted." She looked over at the door to the opposite room, mood subdued. "Sooner or later my council will really start pressuring me to find a suitor. I'll make sure to choose someone with whom I can be friends, and if I'm lucky, I may grow to care for him… but searching for 'true love' is a luxury neither I nor Arendelle can afford." She smiled slightly, and maybe he was imagining it, but the smile seemed rather sad. "The really ironic thing is, this fake engagement is exactly the sort of marriage my council will want: a political arrangement with a younger-born prince that will help benefit international relations."

"…Your sister would probably say something here about 'not giving up on love,'" Hans commented. "Although I can't claim to know much about that."

"Nor I," she agreed. "I'm very happy for Anna, and I'm sure she and Kristoff will make a wonderful pair, but for me...all I'm hoping for is a kind man who'll make a good king. That's what I owe to my people."

"Duty before pleasure," Hans surmised. "The motto of a monarch." Elsa smiled ruefully and nodded.

They both looked over as the door opened again, and Anna walked out, holding her wedding dress in hand. "Alright; I should probably fold this up again," she said wistfully, carrying it over to the white linens and carefully placing the dress inside. "Do you really think Kristoff will like it?"

There was a knock, and Elsa held up a hand as she went to answer it. To her surprise she found none other than Kristoff waiting there. "I heard my name. Will I like what?" he asked, peering over her head.

"Anna's wedding dress arrived," Elsa explained, standing aside.

"Really? Can I see it?"

"Not on your life," the Queen said sternly as Kristoff walked into the room. "A groom _never_ sees his bride's dress before the wedding. It's tradition."

"Ah, tradition shmadition," Kristoff said. Then, his eyes landed on Hans, and narrowed. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Hans said, turning to face him.

"I'm here to talk to the queen," Kristoff said bluntly.

"Well isn't that ironic; I, too, am here to talk to the queen."

"Yeah? Well _I'm_ not a nut job."

"Well this 'nut job' arrived prior to you, hence-"

"Alright, you two, enough," Elsa said sharply. "You'll both get your turn. Kristoff?"

"Yeah, uh," he said, pinking, "I was just wondering if I could get your help with-"

"Kristoff!"

He looked over sharply and flushed darker, shutting his mouth. Anna closed the door behind her, biting her lip. "I-I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I, uh, needed to talk to Elsa. But it's nothing," he told the queen, "I can probably handle it on my own."

"Are you sure?" said Elsa, surprised.

"Yeah, it's nothing, don't worry about it."

"If there's anything you need, Kristoff, I-" She stopped suddenly, looking towards the window.

"What is it?" Anna asked, worried.

Elsa's brow was creased in a confused frown. "There's a storm coming in from the north."

"You mean the one in the letter," Hans surmised, adding to the pair: "We just got word of it from a scout."

"Yes, it's strange; usually I wouldn't have felt its approach until it was far closer…" She walked to the window, where the sky was still blue, but her expression was dark. "It's not here yet, but it's definitely a blizzard. A big one, too. It's nearer than I thought."

"But you just got the message; how fast can it be moving?" Hans demanded.

"Fast." Her eyes scanned the glass, seeing what they couldn't see. "Considering its speed, it should be here right around the time of the wedding, maybe sooner."

"Can you send it away?" Kristoff asked.

"Of course. Just give me a moment." She closed her eyes and raised her hands, palms facing the window and just a few inches from the glass. Manipulating snowy weather was a talent that had come with greater control over her powers, and she'd occasionally banished bad snowstorms in the past, so Kristoff and Anna knew it wouldn't be a problem. As they turned to their own (rather awkward) discussion, Hans watched, intrigued.

It was because of this that he alone noticed as Elsa's hands began to shake, and her frown deepened. Her mouth tightened as the shaking grew worse, and her face turned even paler than normal. "Your Majesty?" Hans said, a little concerned. Elsa didn't hear him. He was about to ask again, when suddenly the Queen let out a low gasp, and then her whole body went limp.

"Queen Elsa!" He managed to catch her just before she toppled over completely. Kristoff and Anna looked over, startled, and both of their faces changed to expressions of worry. Hans lifted the unconscious Elsa and carried her over to the couch as Anna began to panic, Kristoff frowning with concern beside her.

Their fears were short-lived, however; Elsa opened her eyes a few moments later. "W-what happened?" she said, looking around.

"You passed out!" Anna exclaimed fretfully.

"Passed out?" She sat up shakily. "That's right… the storm." She looked back to the window, baffled. "I tried to send it away, but it…it was like it was _fighting_ me."

"How could a storm fight you?" Hans questioned.

"I don't know. It was the strangest thing." She made as if to stand, but her sister quickly pushed her back down.

"Oh no you don't. You stay right here until you feel better again. And don't worry about the storm; I'm sure it'll blow over. Besides, all the visitors are here already; it's not that big of a deal."

"Anna, really, I'm fine." She tried to get up again, but her legs failed her, and she nearly tumbled forward, stumbling just to keep her balance. "…I think."

Anna bit her lip, hard. "That's it. You're going straight to bed."

"What? But I'm-"

"Obviously you're not feeling well! And I don't want you sick for the wedding. Come on; I'll help you to your room

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Anna, I'm not a child; I'm certain I can walk on my own." But even as she tried to, her legs wobbled, and Anna had to support her. "…Perhaps you're right."

"Of course I am. Let's go."

Anna helped Elsa walk weakly out of the room, leaving Kristoff and Hans alone. The former glared at the later, who cleared his throat. "What did you wish to talk to the Queen about?"

"None of your business," Kristoff said shortly, and stormed out of the room. Hans waited until he was sure the man was gone, and then followed out.

* * *

**A/N: Last chapter for today. I hope you enjoyed it!**


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

_Knock-knock-knock._

Elsa looked up from the book she was reading, startled, and called, "Hello?"

Her bedroom door opened, and a certain auburn-haired prince peeked his head in. "Good evening," he greeted. "May I come in?"

"Well, I don't see how it could hurt," she said wryly, "seeing as Anna, Kristoff and even Olaf have been checking up on me all day." She really did look like an invalid: she was lying upright against the pillows on her bed and draped in a white woolen blanket, which was undoubtedly the work of her sister, reading a novel through her half-moon glasses.

"That sounds like them," Hans agreed, walking inside. He was holding some sort of bundle in his hands, which he set down on her dresser. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." He gave her a doubtful look, and she sighed in frustration, taking off her glasses. "I _mean_ it. The shakiness wore off hours ago, but Anna still won't let me out of bed. She can be very over-protective."

"Well, if she were sick and you were the one taking care of her, I'm sure you'd be much the same," he pointed out.

"But I'm not sick!" she grumbled. "I really do feel fine, but I doubt she'll let me out of bed until tomorrow at the earliest. She did agree to stop checking up on me, though."

"You're _certain_ you're feeling alright?" he questioned.

She gave him a look and got out of bed, gesturing to her perfect ability to stand on her own two feet. "Absolutely positive."

"Then here." He retrieved what appeared to be a few articles of clothing from the bundle and brought them over to her. "Put these on."

"What?" she demanded, accepting what appeared to be a gray woolen hat and a pair of mittens. "Why? Where did you get these?"

"From the spares in the kitchen. We," he said, quickly donning a scarf, "Are going to a play."

She stared. "A play?"

"You said you'd never seen one, right?" he said, glancing over at her.

"Well, yes, but-"

"So why don't you go see one tonight? I heard word in the town that the children are performing their pageant."

Elsa hesitated, looking down at the hat and gloves doubtfully. "…I don't know. I've never…snuck out before."

"Snuck out? It's your castle; this isn't 'sneaking out.'" He saw her face, and amended, "If you really don't want to go, we don't have to."

"No, I want to; it's just…" She bit her lip, and then admitted, "I'm just nervous. I've never been out of the castle before without telling someone, and if they found me, out there, with you, _unchaparoned-"_

"Elsa," Hans interrupted, adjusting his gloves.

"Queen Elsa," she corrected.

"Queen Elsa. It's not as if you're some rebellious teenager sneaking out through your window to dance the night away. You're an adult woman leaving in a perfectly legitimate manner to see a children's pageant, with a man you're supposedly engaged to. This is about as daring as eating sweets before dinner."

She had to chuckle at that. "If it's not 'daring,' as you say, then why do we have to wear disguises? Since clearly these-" She held up the hat and gloves, "-aren't a necessity to me."

"I assumed you didn't want to be recognized and badgered by your adoring subjects." When she still looked hesitant, he said, "Your Majesty, you can either stay cooped up in here and wish you'd come, or we can go see a pageant." He nodded towards the doorway. "The choice is yours."

She bit her lip, and then put on the hat.

* * *

Elsa had never had so much fun in her life.

Alright, well, perhaps that was an overstatement- after all, building her ice castle had been positively euphoric, and spending time with Anna, of course, never failed to lift her spirits. But short of magical adventures and the like, she hadn't had a more enjoyable time in years.

After sneaking out the back door of the kitchen and past the guards (who really needed a refresher tutorial on guarding if they couldn't even catch a well-known would-be convict and a well-known ice-casting queen), Elsa had conveniently frozen a walkway across the fjords, allowing the two to make their way to the docks. They'd then followed the people to the town square and had blended in with the crowds, taking a pair of seats near the aisle to ensure a good view.

Elsa had loved watching the play, delighted to see the well-known story brought to life. When the pageant was finished, they walked around for a bit, talking and laughing. With the gloves, hat, heavy dress and cloak, no one thought to recognize her as the chill-impervious Ice Queen. It was nice, Elsa decided, to be able to go about as a peasant, if only for a night. It was as if all the burdens of ruling a kingdom had suddenly disappeared.

"-The sheep were adorable," she said with a grin. "And the one who said 'moo' instead of 'baa'-"

"Their director looked ready to have an aneurism," Hans agreed, laughing.

As they passed by a stand, still talking, the vender called out, "Hot cider! Get your hot apple cider!"

"Oh!" Elsa turned impulsively. "Apple cider? How much is it?"

"Just two øre, miss; that's all."

She took her glove off and reached into the inner pocket of her cloak, and only remembered that she hadn't brought any money when her hand scratched the bottom of the pocket. "Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to pass," she said apologetically. "I must have forgotten my money at the-" she caught herself, "-at home."

"Don't worry about it; it's on me," Hans said, handing over the four copper coins.

"Really, you don't have to-"

"I said not to worry about it," he said with a slight smile, handing her a steaming cup of piping hot apple cider. As they continued to walk, he commented, "I'll admit, I'm surprised someone of your… particular disposition… would favor a drink like apple cider."

"Oh, I've always loved it, ever since I was a little girl," she said happily, and then took a sip. "Mm…"

"Slow down, or you'll give yourself a brain melt."

She gave him a dubious look. _"'Brain melt?'"_

"Well, I assume you can't get brain freezes."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and took another sip. "I ought to do this more often."

"Drink apple cider?"

"Explore the town," she amended. "Anna comes here so often that these people are practically family to her; I hardly know them at all. I'm always so nervous that I won't know the right thing to say or do…"

"Can I ask you something?" Hans inquired. She shrugged her agreement. "You're a very well-mannered person, your people adore you, your council thinks you're the best thing since buttered lefse… yet you don't seem to be very close to anyone except your sister and Sir Bjorgman. Why?"

"I don't know. I suppose I just… don't want to disappoint them. My subjects, I mean," she amended.

"They already know about your ice powers; what is there left to hide? Do you have a fire-breathing dragon locked up in your dungeons or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm just, well…" She shrugged. "I'm different that most people."

"You don't say," he deadpanned.

She shook her head. "It's not even just my powers. I don't act like other people, I don't think like other people… I'm not, well, _relatable."_

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Elsa bit her lip for a second, and then admitted, "I've always been a fast learner; I mastered almost every skill that was ever required of me: diplomacy, politics, philosophy- and now I've mastered _this."_ With a swift removal of her glove and a snap of her fingers, a snowflake burst to life in the air, and then disappeared. "But I'm not very good at understanding _people. _And yes, I know part of that comes from keeping them at an arm's length for the better part of my life, but that doesn't help." She shrugged slightly, pulling her glove back on. "I suppose I'm afraid that if I let them get to know me well enough, they'll see that and stop thinking so highly of me."

"It seems to me that you feel more often like an observer than a participator; on the outside versus on the inside, as it were," Hans assessed. "Am I reading that right?"

"Yes, exactly. Most people don't consider a discussion on political philosophy their idea of a good time," she said dryly. "But I don't mind it so much, really. Anna is happy with Kristoff, and I… well, I'm happy on my own. But sometimes…"

"…Sometimes it would be nice, to be understood," he finished.

She glanced up at him, surprised at his astute perception, and then smiled and nodded. As they continued to walk, she said, "So you subscribe to Plato's philosophy of government?"

"Well, of course, it's a thoroughly hypothetical model," Hans corrected, "it would never work in real life, and there are significant issues with some of its social programs."

"Indeed."

"But, his insights into the prudently ruled city were...refreshing, to say the least, after watching my father and brother continue my family's long tradition of misgovernment. Although I won't deny I got lost when the City became a spiritual metaphor..." Elsa laughed, and his eyes twinkled as he teased her: "And what do you think? Are you a 'golden soul,' my queen?"

"I agree with Plato in part, but his idea of a system run absolutely by two elected wise men rests on the twin premises that the wisdom of said men is so profound that their mistakes are negligible, as well as that the people they govern won't rebel against their rule."

Hans chuckled. "Do you fear a rebellion, Queen Elsa?"

"No; my people seem relatively happy with their monarch."

"Then you do not trust your own wisdom?"

"Not impeccably, no. I'm not infallible; that's why I have a council. Some of them are lords and ladies by birth, others are representatives that the people elect themselves." She quirked an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the Southern Isles had a rather different system of governance."

He rolled his eyes. "My brothers and I—well, _formerly_ I—they make up Agnar's council. They essentially only serve to affirm his decisions for him."

"Then the people have no say in their own government?"

"No; that's all handled by my brothers. It makes for a rather one-sided system, don't you think?"

"I don't know if I should say," she said with faux wariness.

He snorted. "Don't worry; I'm not about to tattle to my brother. And you? You said you favored Aristotle."

"I do. His idea of a society governed by the will of the people was certainly beyond its time."

"I hear the Colonies Across the Sea have taken up something similar," Hans commented. "It's interesting that a monarch should theoretically favor a _politeia_ system."

"I play with the hand I've been dealt," she answered simply. "I was born to be a queen, and so I've decided to be a just one who takes the advice of her subjects. In any case, I believe my people have a right to their say in their government."

"Perhaps a combination of the two theories may serve the best," Hans mused. "I think it could work rather well. A pair of wise leaders who defer–"

"-to an elected council-"

"-for the sake of their people!" they finished together. Elsa smiled triumphantly and exclaimed, "Exactly."

The two looked at each other and grinned, blue meeting green. Elsa had never seen him look so light-hearted, with enthusiasm in his eyes and that easy-going smile that made her cheeks flush and stomach flutter like a thousand mad butterflies-

_Wait, what?_

The chiming of the town's clock tower broke the moment, and Elsa started. "Oh goodness, it's midnight! We should be getting back."

"Right, of course. Your sister will get worried."

Elsa sighed. "Sometimes I think I'm the _only_ thing she worries about. She's so carefree- perhaps not always for the better. In any case, we'd better go." She could hear herself talking, but her words felt almost automatic. They walked back to the castle, whereupon their conversation ended as they concentrated on sneaking back in without getting caught. When they reached the top of the stairs to the floor with the royal chambers, Hans bade Elsa a goodnight and then continued on his way to the next floor up, where the guest rooms were situated.

Elsa walked back to her room almost in a daze and slipped inside, locking the door behind her. She leaned against the white-painted wood, taking off the hat and gloves and wringing her hands, distressed. What was the matter with her? How could she so casually be- be _having fun_ with the man? And that feeling she'd had in the village… happy and sort of dizzied and excited…

Elsa wasn't stupid. Inexperienced in the ways of emotions and romance, yes. More capable of understanding mathematics and politics than her own heart, yes. But certainly not stupid. She knew that that sort of feeling was what every romance novelist out there, not to mention _her own sister,_ described as developing an attraction. Or, as Anna would put it… falling in love.

"What is the _matter_ with you, Elsa?" she groaned. "He tried to kill you. He broke Anna's heart!"

The snow was starting to swirl around her, and she began to panic. "No no no…" Elsa took a deep breath. "Think about love. Love will thaw…"

_Love? _a little voice whispered in her head. _What would you know about love? Isn't love what got you into this mess in the first place?_

The snow was swirling faster now. Elsa closed her eyes tight. "Get it together, Elsa. Think about Anna."

_Anna?_ the voice hissed demandingly. _You mean Anna, your sister to whom you owe everything, your sister whom you're betraying? Maybe you do belong with _him._ Look at yourself! You're both traitors, after all! Both monsters!_ She flinched visibly as the winds roared and reached their peak.

"No," she mumbled, trying to find her voice. "I'm not- I don't want-" Something jabbed through her mind, sharp and sheer. "I'm not the traitor. He is. He's the one who betrayed Anna! He's to blame for this, not me! He's the criminal, the murderer! _He's the_ _monster, not me!"_

She slammed her foot into the ground, and the winds shot out in all directions, changing to snow and then to ice. Fast as lightning, the ice fractured up the walls and curled down like dark, blue-black claws, jagged and menacing. Elsa stared, stunned. Even when she'd been terrified and running for her life, she'd never created anything so…_ugly._

Elsa pulled her hands in close, wringing them with nervousness. Well, at least the snow had stopped. Taking several slow, deep breaths, she walked over to her window, cracked the ice that had sealed around it, and opened the shutters. After peeking her head outside to make sure no one was watching, she turned back to the icicles in the room and tried to concentrate on her bubbly little sister, on Anna's smile and nothing else. Slowly, much more slowly than she wanted, the ice began to retreat, pulling away into snowflakes and creating a small, hovering sphere of snow in the center of her room. Elsa sent the snow out into the courtyard, and then closed her window with a sigh.

"Conceal it, don't feel it," she instructed herself, taking a slow breath. "This isn't real. Don't fall for your own illusion."

Because that was what this had to be: an illusion. There was no chance that the man who had tried to kill her had changed so completely. There was no way that the monster who had betrayed her sister, fooled her country and threatened her life—that man with the manic gleam in his eye, the sword in his hand—could have had enough goodness left inside him to really change. Good people didn't commit murder. They just _didn't._

With this set firmly in her mind, Elsa banished all thoughts of hot cider and pageants and Plato from her mind once and for all, and climbed into bed without bothering to change. This was strictly business, nothing more.

She hoped.

* * *

**A/N: I love writing them as these political philosophy geeks. It's especially fun reading this several years later now that I've actually studied the _Republic_ and the _Politics._**

**Did you like it? Hate it? All feedback is appreciated! _Pax et bonum,_ friends!**


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work. **

* * *

_The street was covered with dirty, slushy snow, sprayed every which way by the crossing farm-carts. The older boys had made a point of hitching up their sledges to the back of these carts and riding them to any place in or around the town. Some did it for fun; others, like the dark-haired young man of about fourteen on the street-corner, took the free rides to their jobs, working for one shopkeeper or another, or doing odd-work for the wealthy families._

_This boy was poorer than the rest, and it showed: his clothes were patched, his shoe had a hole in the toe, and he had no gloves at all. But there was something about his eyes- gray and sharp- that betrayed a cleverness and intelligence about him. He was watching the carts pass by, waiting for his chance to jump in and hitch up his sled. His eyes caught sight of something and narrowed in confusion. A sleigh of what appeared to be white wood, its rider wrapped in white fur with the face shrouded in shadows, was circling the town square. "What about that one?" one of the other boys commented, having noticed the sleigh, as well._

_The gray-eyed boy shook his head. "I don't recognize that one," he said with a strange wariness in his tone- even he didn't half understand it. "Leave it alone."_

_"Ah, what would you know, Willum?" a different boy jeered. "Your father can't even read!"_

_"I'm telling you, I don't trust it!" the gray-eyed boy insisted._

_"You're just afraid!" a little voice piped up, and the three older boys turned. A child with copper-colored curls looked up at them. Willum felt his discomfort worsen; there was something about the way the boy was sneering at them that seemed so incongruent with his eight-year-old features. He had always been a good child, polite and kindly, but as of late something seemed quite wrong with him, and Willum could not for the life of him understand how such a change had come to take place._

_"It's only little Kai," one of the others said dismissively, turning away. "Go home, Kai; this isn't a game for children."_

_That seemed to anger the boy, and without any further ado, he ran out into the street, his little toboggan sled trailing behind. "Kai! Get back here!" Willum shouted._

_"I'm not scared! I'll show you!"_

_"Kai, you'll be trampled!"_

_The boy wasn't listening. As the sleigh rode past, Kai reached forward and latched his toboggan onto the back of the white sleigh. He jumped on as it took off through the slush and snow, down another road, and out of sight. Willum stared, stunned. But surely, Kai would return- he'd know to unhitch his sled at the town gates. Surely._

_Hours went by. Night came. The family went looking; people began asking questions. Willum and the others told them everything they'd seen, but no one found any sign of the boy. Eventually, people agreed he must have drowned in the nearby river, and a funeral was held to him. Willum went, in his best Sunday clothes- which were really like everyone else's normal clothes, but it was the best he could do. Standing quietly in a corner, embarrassed for his shabby appearance, he alone noticed how, at the back of the church, stood a little girl with curly dark hair, tears pouring silently down her cheeks._

* * *

His eyes opened, but his face was creased into a frown. Willum sat up with a distinct sense of uneasiness and looked around. The room was quiet and familiar: his bed and warm gray quilt, his overstuffed bookshelf, the unlit lamp on his desk and the crucifix on the wall. All appeared normal. But all did not _feel_ normal.

The bishop put on his slippers and made his way down to the kitchens. When he entered, he was surprised to find that the main stove was already burning, as were a few of the candles in the wall sconces. Willum was confused until the door to the pantry opened, and Gerda came out, looking surprised.

"I thought I heard noises," she asserted. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Ah, well, I came in search of a cup of tea. Yourself?"

"Someone has to keep the stove heated; the girl who usually works nights is sick."

"I see. Is Kai awake?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Not for another hour yet. Were you looking for him?"

"Maybe," Willum answered vaguely, frowning slightly.

The matronly housekeeper noted this and said, "Why don't you sit down, and I'll put the kettle on." He did so, and she put an old metal teapot on the stove before taking a seat at the table across from him. "What seems to be the trouble?" she inquired in a motherly way.

He shook his head. "I don't know… it's probably nothing." She tilted her head, and he said, "…I had an odd dream… the day Kai went missing."

Gerda's face had grown somber. "I don't know why," Willum continued. "It's made me uneasy…but I'm sure I'm only imagining it."

She nodded. "Yes. That must be it."

He hesitated. "…It's odd, isn't it, how things turned out?"

She looked up. Their eyes met, brown and grey. "…She's still out there, isn't she?" Gerda said finally, voice little more than a quivering whisper.

"It's possible. Very possible. The powers of evil are strong." His expression was concerned, yet firm. "But the powers of good are stronger; you know that better than anyone."

"Do I? Sometimes I'm not so sure."

The kettle had started to whistle. Gerda got up and walked over to it. She poured two saucers of tea, and then stopped. "…Kai thinks we should tell her," she said finally. "He always has."

"And what do you think?"

"I swore an oath."

"So did I."

"Then you know why we have to keep it!" she said, turning to look at him. "She can never know the truth; you know that!"

"And what if we've underestimated her?" Willum demanded, getting to his feet. "Elsa has proven herself a remarkable queen, wise beyond her years. Doesn't she have the right to know why she's different?"

"The king and queen made the decision; don't you think they knew better than anyone what was best for their daughter?"

"They could have been wrong."

"We promised, Willum!"

Her voice was so ardent that he relented with a sigh. "…I know," he agreed, sitting back down. "But I can't help but feel as if we've kept this secret too long as it is."

Gerda pursed her lips, still looking troubled, and then brought over the cup of tea. She set it down in front of him. "This is silly," she said with a sigh. "That was more than twenty years ago; we're all in a muddle over nothing. One can never think clearly at night, anyway; it's no time to make hasty decisions."

"…Perhaps you're right," he conceded tiredly. "Demons are always more frightening in the dark; old memories, too." He stood. "I think I'll take my tea with me, if that's alright."

"Of course. You look tired; you should go back to bed."

He shook his head. "Something tells me sleep isn't much of an option. Besides, the sun will be up in a few hours; I'll just get an early start on the Sunday sermon."

"Alright then." As he stood and started for the door, saucer in hand, she said suddenly, "Willum."

He glanced over his shoulder. There was uncertainty in her eyes, and she looked as if she were about to ask a question. Then, she shook her head. "Never mind; it's nothing."

The bishop wanted to press the matter, to ask what she had wanted to say, but in the end decided against it. With a nod, he left, leaving Gerda to stand in the kitchen alone with a quickly cooling cup of tea.

* * *

Day had broken over Arendelle, and already at mid-morning the castle was bustling with activity. Elsa's sleep had been fitful and broken, and as a result she felt more exhausted than ever. She hadn't bothered to pin up her braid, instead letting it fall loose down her back, and the idea of going to the effort of making up her face was positively absurd. She finished a piece of toast as she walked through the halls, her mind a hundred different places and nowhere all at once.

"Elsa!"

The tired queen turned, startled, and saw her sister running up to her. She smiled despite herself. "Anna. What is it? I thought you'd be with Kristoff right now."

Her sister glanced away, fiddling with her hands. "No, he's busy right now…" She brushed this off and looked up at Elsa again. "So anyway, I was wondering, how're you doing?"

"Me? Oh, fine…" She trailed off as a servant hurried up to her.

"Your Majesty, a trade ship from Dun Broch scheduled to arrive two days ago still hasn't docked," the manservant said, looking concerned. "And on that note, neither has that second ship from Corona."

"I've been keeping the fjord passages open for guests," Elsa said, frowning. "They should have been able to get through…"

"A small messenger vessel did manage to get through by tacking along the cost, bearing word that Corona apologizes, but they won't be able to send representatives to the wedding for fear of sea troubles."

"Understandable," Elsa sighed. "Well, there's nothing for it, then. Tell me if the ships do arrive; thank you."

"Yes, my Queen," the servant said, giving a quick bow and then hurrying away.

Anna frowned, worried. "That's strange that the ships couldn't get through."

"I've kept the channels from freezing over, but perhaps there were other troubles. Hopefully the ships have only been waylaid. That's not the troubling thing, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I sent a scout vessel to the Southern Isles to monitor their progress on military preparations."

Anna stared. "You sent spies to the Southern Isles?"

"Call it 'counter intelligence.' I was wondering why I hadn't heard anything back from them yet, but if there's been trouble at sea…It looks like we're on our own up here." She sighed again and then shook her head, turning back to Anna. "Anyway…was there something you needed?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if I could help you with anything. You've been stressed lately."

Elsa tried to smile. It turned out more like a grimace. "I am. But it's alright; I can handle it."

"You sure? I can totally help with whatever you need."

"I'm quite alright." She loved her sister, but her thoughts felt so tangled and irritated that her sister's perpetually bubbly attitude was beginning to get on her nerves.

"Seriously, Elsa, I-"

"Anna," the queen said sharply, cutting her off. "I'd just really rather be alone right now, alright?"

Anna stopped, stared. After a moment, she found her voice. "O-okay. Yeah. Sorry." She stepped away, and Elsa saw the way she tried to valiantly hide the hurt in her eyes. "I'll just… see you later then." She walked away, leaving the Queen to stand there alone.

Elsa rubbed her temples, feeling as if she were developing a migraine. She felt bad about hurting Anna's feelings, but at the same time relieved. While the queen didn't necessarily want to be alone, she also didn't think she could handle company, not right then. Her whole world had been upended and she couldn't even begin to sort out her own thoughts, let alone someone else's.

She went the library and sat down at her desk, putting on her reading glasses with a yawn. Work. Work would bury her and help her forget the insanity life had become. She was halfway through drafting her rewrite of the grain report when she heard a voice. "Heya, Elsa!"

The queen groaned inwardly. Couldn't _anyone_ just leave her be today? "Hello, Olaf," she sighed, turning to look at the snowman who had just walked in the door.

"Watcha doin', huh?"

"Rewriting a very complicated report," she said shortly, hoping Olaf would take the hint and just leave.

"Oh, that's cool." He paused. "So, listen… about Hans…"

This time, she almost let out that groan. Why couldn't people talk about anything else? "What about him?"

"Well… I've noticed you guys are kinda strange around each other."

That got her attention. "What do you mean?"

"Just that sometimes you seem to like him and sometimes you seem to hate him," the snowman said simply. "I just wanna know why."

She sighed. "It's complicated."

"That's what he said."

"Yes, well, he's right," she replied irritably, reaching for a piece of parchment and starting to scribble down a few notes about the bill.

"So anyway, I thought of a way that you guys could fix that!"

"Oh? And what's that?" she said, distracted.

"Well first, you guys play some games together, and then you talk a lot, and then you give him a warm hug!"

She chuckled bitterly at this. "Not everything can be fixed by warm hugs."

"Why not?" he said, confused.

"Because they can't."

"But I think if you really tried hard-"

"They just can't, Olaf!" she snapped, slamming the fountain pen down on the desk. Ice scattered across the papers in sharp points, and Olaf took a step back, startled. Instantly, the Queen felt awful. "I'm sorry, Olaf, I…"

"No, no, it's fine," he said, voice small. "I guess I just thought… but I must be wrong. Sorry."

He sounded so much like Anna that it only made the queen feel worse, but before she could apologize, Olaf quickly walked away, still looking hurt.

Elsa crossed her arms on the ice-covered desk and laid her head down on them with an _"Ugh,"_ feeling absolutely horrible. "What is the matter with me?" she mumbled to herself. "First Anna, now Olaf…" A horrible thought occurred to her. "Am I shutting people out again?"

The answer to that was a big, obvious _yes._ But what else could she do? Olaf would hardly understand if she tried to explain what was bothering her, and Anna… she paled at the very thought. Opening up to Anna about this would be akin to stabbing her own sister in the back. Anna _could not_ know. _Ever._

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, for the last time Elsa had sworn something like that to herself, she'd ended up shutting her sister out for the better part of two decades. _But this won't last that long,_ she reasoned. _You just have to make it until the end of this month, to the wedding. Then everything will finally go back to normal._

_Except for imminent war and destruction, of course._

She groaned. This was just fantastic. She needed to stop thinking about all of this right now, or she'd drive herself crazy. With a steeled resolve, Elsa sat up straight again and went back to writing the report, losing herself among the technical law language and redundancy.

_Just until the wedding._


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work. **

* * *

By the time Sunday morning rolled around again, Elsa had successfully relearned her old habits on how to avoid people in just about any part of the castle. Unfortunately, now that the gates were open and Sunday services were no longer private, she was forced to meet with her Anna and Kristoff for church, along with the rest of the town's populace.

It was Gaudete Sunday,* so the whole chapel had been done up in rose, decorated with large pink banners bearing the Arendelle crocus. As the Queen took her place with her sister and Kristoff, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that in the pew directly across the aisle from them sat none other than the very prince from whom all her new troubles had stemmed. He had glanced at her, too. Both quickly looked away, which made the moment even more uncomfortable, since each knew they'd been seen by the other but neither wanted to openly look. Instead, Elsa busied herself with undoing the silver clasp of her black leather hymnal and flipping to the correct page, deliberately taking more time than necessary to have an excuse to not look up.

The congregation rose as the Mass started. So preoccupied was she with _not_ looking to her left that the movement startled her- especially considering the particular hymn that had been chosen to begin the services. As the singing began, Elsa blinked, surprised, and then looked back down to her hymnal. The page number she was on read quite clearly on the top, _Deilig er Jorden._

Her cheeks flushed red, and she glanced around sharply, wondering if anyone else was questioning the irony of the situation. Then, she realized how foolish this was, since only she and Hans had been in the library that evening. Besides, this was a Christmas carol, and after all, it was Christmastide. It was only a coincidence.

Even so, she couldn't seem to make the blush on her cheeks go away.

Elsa took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on singing along with everyone else, before she realized that frost was slowly creeping out from under her hands and coating the pages in thin, swirling designs. She surreptitiously glanced over at Anna to see if her sister had noticed and then hastily brushed the frost off. _Calm yourself. Control yourself._

The hour-long service seemed to last an eternity, and as soon as it was over, Elsa quickly fled the church to seek refuge in her room. Quickly closing and locking the door, she let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of the public eye. She set the hymnal down on her desk and undid her curled bun, letting the braid fall over her shoulder as she picked up the novel she'd been reading _that_ evening. Despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to disappear into the pages of the old book, her mind simply could not seem to concentrate. After reading the same line thrice without taking in a syllable, she sighed and closed the novel.

This was two days in a row hiding away and closing herself off from the world. She knew now for certain that she was shutting people out, but what other choice did she have? She couldn't talk to Anna about this, and besides, she and Kristoff had enough to deal with, what with the wedding and all, and Hans… the very _idea_ of speaking to Hans about how she _maybe-possibly could be attracted to him_ was so absurd it was laughable.

She glanced outside her triangular window into the courtyard below, and her heart jumped a little in surprise when she saw that the very man was just below her, walking and talking with some of the parishioners. He seemed to be conversing to one of the servants when, from the opposite direction, the Southern king came up to speak with him. Elsa watched, concerned, although she couldn't hear what was being said.

Down on the ground, Hans bade farewell to the servant and turned to the king. "I imagine you're dissatisfied about something," he said dryly.

Agnar's expression spoke volumes. "You imagine correctly," he said lowly, as the rest of the crowds passed them by. "Why haven't you been speaking with the Queen for the past two days?"

"Well, they say personal space is valuable in any relationship," Hans said, turning to walk with the rest towards the castle.

His brother grabbed him by the shoulder. "Do not trifle with me, Hans," he spat. "Either you and Queen Elsa start getting a lot friendlier, or I start-"

"Making things difficult?" Hans guessed, rolling his eyes.

In a flash, Hans felt the edge of a knife press against his gut. Invisible to any passersby, the blade dug painfully through his suit coat and into his abdomen. "Don't forget that I can still get rid you any time I please," Agnar hissed. "I'm sure any of the others would be more than willing to take your place and woo the queen. Am I clear, Hans?"

The younger swallowed. "Crystal."

"Then here is what I want you to do: spend some time with her. _Alone._ Take her out for a romantic ride in the woods or some such, I don't care. But when you come back, she'd better be hanging off your every word. Are we agreed?"

"We are."

The knife's pressure vanished, and Agnar smiled in an almost amiable manner. "Glad to hear it." He walked away, leaving the youngest prince to stand there alone.

Elsa was irritated but not surprised when ten minutes later, a knock sounded at her door. "Queen Elsa? Are you in there?"

She sighed and stood up, walking over to unlock the door and open it. "Well? What did the king say?"

"We have to go on a private outing," Hans informed her. "Outside of the town, I mean. Non-negotiable."

"What? No. Absolutely out of the question," Elsa replied, turning back to her work.

"I'm sorry, I'll just go back and tell Agnar you'd prefer planning your own funeral," Hans said sarcastically. "Look, he was very clear: we had to be alone together, without other people."

"But _why?"_ she snapped.

"Because we're supposed to be falling in love," he said, frustrated. "And that's what people who are in love do, they spend time together."

"We are _not_ in love," she spat.

"Well we have to make my brother think that we are. Following his orders is the wisest option."

"I don't consider walking out into the woods alone with the man who tried to behead me very wise at all," she retorted sharply.

That stung. Somewhere along the line, an unspoken agreement had arisen between them that neither would mention what had happened on the fjord in anything but a passing remark; this was practically a personal attack. Hans took a step back, stunned, and then his eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said curtly. "Do whatever you like." He headed for the door. "I'll be down at the stables. Whether you come is your choice- but remember the alternative if you don't." He left.

* * *

In the end, Elsa's sense of self-preservation won out over her pride, and she grudgingly went down to the stables. Hans had already readied his horse and was petting the beast's nose when she entered, Elsa having changed from her Sunday best into a more suitable dress for outdoor activity, as well as her pair of black riding boots and a satchel. They didn't talk at all as they led their respective fjord horses out into the courtyard. The trip through the town was similarly silent, each speaking only to indicate where they were going.

Now here they were, in the middle of the forest. They had been riding at least ten minutes in the snowy woods around the castle, heading north, as far as Hans could tell. "I hate the cold," he grumbled, breath freezing into frost in the air. He'd gone much paler due to poor circulation, looking all the more ginger and bespeckled because of it. "Any chance your powers extend to taking the chill away instead of just increasing it?"

Elsa smirked against her will. "Cold is the absence of warmth, Hans; I can't just 'take it away.'"

"And I don't suppose you have the ability to introduce warmth into an area?"

"Hmm," she drawled. "Well, maybe if I had the power to cover the fjords in white sand and warm sunshine, I could. But as it is, no."

"Fantastic," he muttered under his breath. But despite his dislike of being chilled, he had to admit the Arendellian forests did look pretty spectacular in the middle of winter.

"I have news, as it happens."

"Oh?"

She related the news about the waylaid ships. Hans sighed. "That's the whole trouble with spies; communication can be cut off so easily."

"Ah yes, I forgot you had experience in this." He kept his face carefully expressionless, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Prince Hans. You knew an awful lot about my sister and me before you arrived for the coronation, and our countries have never been particularly…friendly. I've always presumed the Isles had spies in Arendelle."

"For nearly a hundred years," he relented. "Not that my brothers would want me telling you that." She smirked. "So where are we headed?"

"First we're stopping by to see a few old friends," she said, being intentionally vague. "And then we'll head up to the castle."

"The castle- you mean your ice castle?" he said, surprised. "That's quite a trip."

"A full day's worth with our stop," she said, satisfied. "Which is why it works perfectly to get you out of your brother's reach, and both of us out of prying eyes."

"Ahh," he said, suddenly appreciating the genius of the plan. "Clever."

"The way I've timed it, we should be meeting my… friends… by about noon," she calculated. "We'll reach the top of the North Mountain around two, and still be back in time for dinner."

"Oh, goodness forbid we miss dinner!" Hans said dryly, and Elsa couldn't help but chuckle at that. However, the moment she realized she'd done so, her smile disappeared and her face fell into a slight frown as she glanced away.

After a moment or two, Hans said suddenly, "I want to thank you."

"Thank me?" Elsa said, surprised. "Thank me for what?"

"For taking care of Sitron." He reached forward to pat his horse's neck, and Elsa recalled that it was the same yellowish mount he'd been riding the last time he'd arrived at her ice palace. "I was worried something had happened to him, though of course I had no way to find out."

"Well, he's a perfectly good fjord horse; we weren't about to sell him without need," Elsa pointed out.

"I know. But no one would have blamed you for doing it out of spite." He glanced at her, an earnest look in his eyes. "So…again, thank you."

She looked away, unable to find anything suitable to say except, "Yes, well…you're welcome."

The rest of the ride was as silent as its beginning, and Hans didn't question it. At some point the little hills and valleys of the forest became large canyons with sheer rock-faces. Near-dormant geyser holes let out puffs of steam here and there, and the air seemed warmer. Strangely enough, the snow that had covered most of the country hadn't fallen here, and moss grew in vibrant emerald patches along the ground "Almost there," Elsa called back over her shoulder.

He followed her into a valley filled with what appeared to be spherical boulders, of many sorts and sizes. Elsa pulled her mare to a stop and hopped off, Hans following her lead. "This is it."

"This?" He looked around, frowning in confusion. "Your 'friends' live here?"

"Of course." She walked forward into the group of rocks and called out. "Hello, everyone!"

Hans stared as she continued to speak to no one in particular. "I know you're all hibernating, but I just thought I'd drop by."

"Queen Elsa–" Hans started uncomfortably, wondering if the Queen had temporarily lost her sanity. Before he could finish, however, the rocks started to roll towards Elsa, seemingly of their own accord. He jumped as one nearly knocked him over. "Elsa!"

The rocks suddenly all seemed to pop open or unravel somehow, revealing several stony creatures. Hans's mouth dropped open in shock. _What the-_

"It's the Queen!" several of the—the _whatever-they-weres _said excitedly, hurrying over.

"Queen Elsa!"

"Is Kristoff with you?" one of the younger ones demanded eagerly.

Elsa laughed, kneeling down. "No, no. I'm sorry; he's back at the palace. I just thought I'd stop by. Cliff, Bulda, hello!" she exclaimed, kneeling down to greet a pair of the creatures, one male and one female.

"Hello, dear, how are you?" the male, Cliff, asked kindly.

"Yes, tell us what's been happening!" Bulda encouraged her.

Elsa smiled ruefully. "That would take a while."

"Ooh, who's the savory slice of mushroom over _there?"_ said Bulda with a nudge and a wink, nodding in Hans's direction.

Both humans turned red at her implication, and Elsa hurried to say, "A friend. Just a friend."

"And what is this friend's name?" said Cliff with a knowing grin.

The pair hesitated and glanced at each other, reluctant to explain. They were sure the trolls would recognize his name. In the end, Hans steeled his will and walked forward. "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he said, giving a short bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."

When he looked back up, the whole clearing was staring at him. Hans clasped his hands behind his back uncomfortably. "I…take it you've heard of me."

"Ehm, well, you could say that," Bulda said awkwardly. Several of the trolls looked angry, and Hans gulped, imagining just how outmatched he would be in a fight against these stony beings.

"Someone told me the Queen had arrived?"

The trolls all turned, and Hans and Elsa saw an elderly stone-being walking towards them. Elsa curtsied. "Grand Pabbie."

"Queen Elsa, you needn't curtsy to me," he chuckled. "An old troll is all I am."

"An old troll who saved my sister's life—twice," she reminded him, smiling.

"Hm. Well, the second was done on her own." He looked towards Hans. "Good day, young man."

"Grand Pabbie," one of the smaller trolls whispered. "He's-"

"Hush, young one," Grand Pabbie said gently. "This man is our guest. Welcome, Prince Hans. It is certainly interesting to finally meet you." His tone and expression were carefully polite, but Hans noted the adjective.

"It's nearly noon; we'll get you two something to eat," Cliff said to the pair. "We have some lovely fresh moss…"

"Nonsense, Cliff; they can't eat moss!" Bulda said, smacking him on his rocky shoulder.

"It was always good enough for Kristoff."

"Please; he fed it to the pebbles every time."

"Kristoff?" Hans interjected. It was the second time they'd mentioned the name. "As in, Princess Anna's fiancé?"

"The very same," Bulda said fondly. "Our little boy… I've never been prouder. Now, as to lunch…"

After Elsa had managed to assure all of them that she'd brought lunch fit for _human_ consumption in her satchel and dissuade them from any well-meant offers of mushrooms, moss or tree-bark, the trolls finally allowed the pair to sit down on a log and eat their sandwiches. "Ham and cheese," Hans said with surprise as he unwrapped his. "You remembered?"

"I remember everything," she said, in a faux-regal tone. "What do you think of the trolls?"

"I still can't believe it; I've never heard of rock trolls except in fairytales," Hans said, looking around the clearing at the colony of rocky beings. He glanced over at her. "But then again, I'd never heard of ice magic before, either."

"Learn something new every day, hm?"

"The best way to live." He suddenly seemed to notice something from the side. "Would you look at that?"

"Look at what?"

He picked a flower from the ground beside the log and looked at it in wonder. It was a wild red rose, petals flushed scarlet and fresh. "Everything grows here," he said, baffled. "It's as if winter can't even touch this place."

"I don't think it can," she remarked. "Every time I've visited, it's always seemed to be the middle of spring, no matter what time of year. Even my magic is weaker here."

"Remarkable." He held out the rose to her to examine.

She smiled and accepted it. "Thank you," she said, searching through the saddlebag and pulling out her hymnal, which she'd packed on accident. She tucked the rose inside to preserve it, and then glanced over at him again.

Her smile disappeared. Both looked away uncomfortably. Finally, after a second or two, Hans sighed. "What is it?"

"What?"

"For the past several days, you've been incredibly cold, if you'll pardon the phrase—not just to me, but to everyone," Hans said frankly. "Anna in particular has been moping. I think a bit of an explanation is in order."

She saw that he was genuinely concerned, and the iciness inside her seemed to thaw a little. "I know," she admitted tiredly. "I know. I've been shutting people out again. I'm just… a little stressed right now." She didn't tell him _why _she was so stressed, but then it didn't seem necessary.

Hans nodded. "Fair enough. But if you'd just _tell_ us that next time, things might go a little smoother."

She saw how genuine he seemed, and realized she'd been acting ridiculous. Didn't she know better than anyone how cutting oneself off from the rest of the world led to nothing but bitterness and resentment? And for goodness sake, it wasn't as if she literally had to lock her door just to keep a simple secret. Why should anything have actually changed from the night of the pageant until then? "Alright," she agreed, and then grudgingly added, "…Thank you."

"Of course," he said, and then nodded to the sandwich in her hands. "So, what kind of sandwich is that?"

Elsa laughed and glanced down. "Lutefisk."

"What?" he said, chortling in disbelief. "You're not serious."

"It's good!" she insisted. "Why does everyone think it isn't?"

"Because it tastes like soap!"

"It does not!"

They continued bickering and laughing good-naturedly for the duration of their meal. While they ate, Grand Pabbie approached them. "Enlighten an old troll," he said, "what brings you out this way."

Hans glanced to Elsa. "He's trustworthy," she reassured him, and then explained the story in a low voice. When it was over, the old troll nodded.

"I see. Well, I wish you luck in your plan. If you need help, my people will do what we can. However, there is something else which needs discussing." The two exchanged a surprised look. "Queen Elsa, I need to know: to what ends have you been using your powers as of late?"

Elsa blinked. "Nothing too extreme; making ice rinks or snow forts for the children, keeping winter storms away… why do you ask?"

The old troll looked worried. "There is something which has been troubling me as of late, but which I cannot put my finger on. There are signs of magic in the air and sky… but nothing more than signs, no true danger of any sort." He shook his head. "Perhaps it is nothing."

Elsa nodded, looking concerned herself. "I'll keep an eye out. Will you do the same?"

"Of course, my dear. Best of luck."

As Elsa mounted her mare again, Grand Pabbie caught the edge of Hans's coat. The prince glanced back, surprised. "To both of you," he added.

Hans nodded. He understood. "Thank you."

* * *

The ride up to the castle took another two hours, so that it was mid-afternoon when they finally arrived at the top of the North Mountain. The sun was shining brightly, glinting off the sides of the ice palace like a diamond in the light. Elsa's spirits rose as it came into view, and she pulled her horse to a halt and quickly got off, hurrying over to the staircase that bridged the gully between the two crevices of the mountain. "Are you coming?" she called back over her shoulder.

Hans chuckled at her enthusiasm and dismounted, walking up to the staircase. As he approached, a pile of snow next to the stairs suddenly shuddered to life, and the prince came to a sudden halt. The giant snow monster that he had fought on his last little trip to the palace clambered to his feet, spikes of ice growing out of his arms. "BAD! MAN!" he roared.

Hans stumbled back and drew his sword. Elsa quickly jumped between the two. "Whoa, whoa, easy there boy," she said to the snow giant, holding up her hands. "It's alright. He's a- well, he's a-" Marshmallow looked like he was getting impatient, so she finally settled on, "-He's a friend."

The snowman wasn't buying it. "Bad man a friend?" he said dubiously.

"Yes. A friend who would very much like to see the castle. May we go in?"

Although he still looked doubtful, Marshmallow moved aside and let them pass. "Bad man?" Elsa questioned, as they ascended the staircase.

He winced. "I… may have been the one who dismembered him." When she gave him a look, he scowled. "I was being attacked by a giant snow monster! You have to give me that one."

"Alright, alright, granted."

Elsa walked up to the front doors and pushed them open, breathing a deep sigh of contentment. She strode inside, looking incredibly in her element. Hans followed, holding his breath, feeling almost as if he were intruding on something incredibly personal and may at any moment be forced to leave. He looked up to the vaulted ceilings, the crystalline walls, the flawless creation, and felt himself as awed as he had been the first time. "May I take a look around?" he requested of the queen, who was climbing the stairs.

"Be my guest. If you need anything, just call." She disappeared behind an ice wall. Hans followed her up, running a hand along the smooth railings. As Elsa started up another flight of stairs to the third floor, he began to walk along the familiar hallway in the second story.

His feet seemed to know their way, for he found himself in the large, empty room where a year and a half ago he'd found the queen defending herself. It seemed that she'd repaired the chandelier and the doorway to the balcony. The bright sunshine streamed through it and lit the palace up in a stunning array of azure and cerulean. Clearly this was Elsa's favorite room, as she'd embellished it since the last time he'd been in it with beautiful ice-carved designs, imitating both flowers and snowflakes, as if summer and winter had come together in perfect harmony.

"Do you like it?"

He turned and saw the Queen herself standing in the entrance to the room. She'd changed (or perhaps simply created) for herself a simple yet flattering sky-blue dress and sheer cape, with a long skirt, an Arendellian bodice and that not-quite-Victorian style of collar she seemed to favor. She'd let her pale blonde hair fall down loose about her shoulders, and was holding her tiara in her hands.

"Like it?" he said, turning back to look around the room. "It's incredible." He glanced back, smiling. "I can see why, considering who created it."

She chuckled slightly at that and walked to his left behind him. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Hans."

"Oh, no," he teased. "You're much too clever for that, aren't you, Queen Elsa?"

"Hm. Well, that isn't to say that flattery doesn't occasionally conform to the truth." She waved her hand, and a Hellenistic-style pillar arose from the ice. Another wave created what looked like a small chest on top of it. She opened the chest and placed her crown inside.

"You know, I've never seen you with your hair down before," Hans commented, turning to her.

"I let it down whenever I come up here."

"As well as your crown?" She nodded. "Why?"

Elsa smiled a little and shrugged. "Up here, I'm not a queen."

"I think the magic ice castle begs to differ," he deadpanned.

She shook her head. "A castle and a crown don't make a woman a queen," she said, crossing in front of him. "Her subjects do. And, every now and then, I really enjoy pretending that I don't have subjects. I love them to death, of course, but sometimes it seems I have to solve a lot of disputes they could settle for themselves."

"Getting up here every now and then must be a real relief," he agreed with a chuckle.

"You have no idea." She glanced back, smiling. Their eyes met.

_—"Queen Elsa!"_

_Her face was full of a deadly determination, fueled by panic turned to fury at these men who'd feared her, accused her, attacked her. Elsa hated them, hated everyone and everything that had ever condemned her as a monstrosity. The blood had rushed to her head, white-hot anger searing in her chest as she willed the ice to take her revenge. She could hear nothing but the pounding in her ears, except–_

_Except, perhaps, a voice behind her, saying firmly yet gently, "Don't be the monster they fear you are."_

_She stopped, turned. Prince Hans stood there, a hand outstretched. Their eyes met._

_For a long moment, she stared. Out of the corner of his eye, Hans saw one of the Westleton guards raise his crossbow. In the split second that followed, he realized that this moment was the answer to all his problems: the Queen would be dead. He would find Anna and take the throne, as he'd always intended. He would be a king in his own right; everything would finally fall into place._

_But the Queen would be dead._

_He made his decision instinctively, his conscience overruling his meticulous planning, and to hell with the consequences. He dove forward and knocked the crossbow upwards towards the chandelier, intent on ending the confrontation before anyone else could get hurt. The arrow shattered the rope of ice from which hung the room's massive chandelier, and the icy fixture crashed to the ground as Elsa tried desperately to get out of the way. The blow knocked her from her feet, and as her head slammed into the ice, everything snapped to black.—_

The memory faded, and Hans knew from Elsa's expression that she had remembered the same thing. For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then, Elsa turned away, wringing her hands. "…Why?" she asked finally.

"What?"

"Why did you save my life?"

"I tried to crash a chandelier on y–"

"You knew it wouldn't kill me." He fell silent. "I know you knew it. I saw you look at the chandelier before you grabbed the crossbow; if you'd wanted me dead you would have just let him shoot me." Hans didn't answer. "You wanted me unconscious so you could take me back to Arendelle. What I can't figure out is _why. _It would have worked out perfectly for you. I would have been dead, the kingdom would have been yours, and you wouldn't have been to blame…why would you go against your own plan?"

"My plan," he said with a sigh. He struggled to find some way to answer for a moment, before he decided that being honest was the least he owed her. "Elsa… you have to understand, I didn't…I didn't make the decision to kill you all at once." He shook his head. "It wasn't even the plan in the beginning; I didn't come here with the intent to kill you—actually, I came to court you. After all, marry a queen, become a king, that was the idea." He paused, and then continued softly, "…But when Anna so willingly offered me path to the throne, I started to think about what that would mean. At first I rejected it, but then Anna disappeared–"

"So is that it, you saved me so you could _court_ me?" she demanded, face flushing an angry red.

"No! That was—_yes,_ I won't deny I was considering it, but that was not the motivating factor!" His expression was growing desperate. "Your people were suffering; I thought you could stop the winter without having to—it's not as if I had some desire to see you suffer! But when I found out you couldn't end the storm–"

"Don't _lie_ to me." An icicle shot out of the ground so fast that he stopped short; the glittering knife-tip was pointed at his throat. He looked past it to Elsa. "I know what you said to Anna," she said, breathing hard. "I _know_ what you told her in that study. You wanted _her _to suffer."

"I…"

"Tell the _truth."_

His heart was hammering. Her blue eyes had pinned his down, like dead butterflies, her gaze sharper than the icicle.

"…Anna used me too, Elsa."

Her gaze snapped wide. _"What?!"_

"She used me to fill the hole in her heart that _you_ left there." His face suddenly hardened, and he stepped around the icicle, knocking the end off with his gloved hand. "You want the truth? _That's_ the truth. Yes, I strung her along once I realized she wasn't just flirting for politics like I was, but you know what, it was _really_ easy to do that once I learned she wasn't interested in a _damned thing_ about me. And then she came back looking for a true love's kiss. _A true love's kiss!_ She thought she was in _love _with me after _three days!"_

"And that's _her fault?!"_ Elsa snapped.

"Partially, yes!" Her expression was one of incredulous fury, and he gestured futilely. "I thought that Anna and I were playing the same game, give something to get something, and I was just _better_ at it than her! I was a means to an end for her just like she was for me!"

"How dare you…"

"And then she was dumb enough to go after you when you _ran away!_ Both of you left me to deal with _your_ mess! And you know what? I was good at it! I was as good at it as I'd always known I _could _be! And then she came back, after all the work I'd put in, when I was so _close._ She could have taken _everything _from me, do you understand?" His voice had lost its anger and had turned desperate. "She wanted true love, _expected_ true love from me, when she didn't care _anything _about me! And it infuriated me that if I didn't live up to that _ridiculous_ expectation she was going to take Arendelle away from me–"

"Don't you _dare_ insinuate that Arendelle was _ever_ yours!"

"Your people needed a king." The words were pouring out now, too fast to stop them, every horrible confession. "They needed _someone, _and they were all looking to me. For the first time in my life people were looking to _me_ to lead them, can you imagine what that felt like? But then Anna came back and it was so _obvious_ she was going to die, I couldn't have saved her, but I could still save myself. All I had to do was convince the council I had a claim to legitimacy, just one little lie and then—and then all I had left was to end the winter." His voice faltered. "I would have been their hero."

"You tried to kill my sister!" Her voice broke with anger and grief. But Hans shook his head.

"I didn't know about the mountain man; to me, Anna was already doomed. I _needed_ the council to believe my claim and since she was already dying, I didn't—I told myself that hurrying up the process didn't really count as murder." His face was burning with shame. "I couldn't let her take away everything I'd worked so hard for. And you—Elsa, you'd cursed the kingdom, your people were looking to me to fix the problem. They _needed_ me. In my mind I already _was_ their king; everything I'd ever wanted was at my fingertips. You were the _only thing_ standing in my way."

Elsa had turned away from him, unspeaking. He could tell from her posture that she was pinching the bridge of her nose. "Elsa–"

"_Then why did you save me?"_

Her voice was low and rasping, half a whisper. He stared, half-dumb, spent.

"…Because I was too weak to do what my brothers would have done the first time." His words, low and exhausted, still seemed to ring through the hall. "As you know, I didn't make the same mistake twice."

Silence. Snow had begun to drift from the ceiling, falling in faint, thin crystals through the air.

"You wanted the truth. That's the truth." He gestured hopelessly. "I _know_ how this sounds because I can _hear_ it now. I wasn't _owed_ a crown, or a wife or glory; I'm not trying to justify myself by telling you this. I know that none of this—_none_ of this excuses what I did to you," he said hoarsely. "I was cruel to Anna, to both of you. And yes, I…I tried to kill her, and you. There is no _excuse_ for evils like that." Suddenly, it all poured out, everything he'd wanted to say since the moment he'd seen her in the throne room: "Elsa, I despise what I did to you and your sister with _every fiber_ of my being. And I _know_ I have no right to ask you this, not after everything. But I—I've changed, I _have._ And I know you can't right now, but—I am begging you, someday_, _to…to consider…"

"If you were going to ask if I can ever forgive you," her voice breathed, wavering, "then _don't finish_ that question."

Hans didn't speak.

_"Get out,"_ she whispered.

"What?"

"Get out of my castle. _Now."_

She heard him let out a low breath, crushed. "…Yes. Of course," he said quietly. There was the sound of footsteps as he walked through the hall and down the stairs, and then a great creak as the doors opened and closed again.

Elsa tried to keep away the memories, the accusing thoughts, but she was powerless against them. They swarmed in her head like angry bees, stinging her again and again. _Good people don't commit murder, _the little voice quoted tauntingly, in this very room where she had been so close to becoming no different from him. _They just don't. Isn't that right, Elsa?_

She squeezed her eyes shut. The snow began to blow around her, swirling and bitter, and she didn't bother to stop it. Too much. It was all just too much…

Outside, Hans closed the door to the castle and stood on the doorstep. Leaning against the door, he unknowingly copied Elsa's posture. "You fool," he muttered to himself, expression pained. "When will you-"

"-ever learn?" Elsa demanded of herself, voice lost in the winds.

_"You ruin everything you touch."_

* * *

**A/N: *Guadete Sunday: the third Sunday of advent, typically marked by rose decorations and rose robes for the priest.**

**As you can see I edited this from the original; I wanted more of a confrontation between the two of them. Hope you enjoyed it! _Pax et bonum!_**


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**Warning to Kristanna shippers: this chapter will be sad. *Winces* Sorry. The song is an edit of one of the original outtakes; you can find it here:**

**www. youtube watch?v=hUMiU2wp7ZQ**

**(Add slash-dot-com after "youtube.")**

* * *

The _knock-knock kn-knock knock_ pattern told Kristoff exactly who was at his door. Seeing as his plan to discuss his concerns about the marriage with Elsa hadn't worked out, he was incredibly wary of meeting his fiancé, especially alone. Still, he couldn't just sit here forever and hope she went away, so he stood up and blew out a sigh, taking off his glasses.

When he opened the door uncomfortably, Anna was standing there, biting her lip. "Hey," she said, offering him a smile. "Can, um, can I come in?"

"Uh-" He didn't know what to say. While he couldn't ignore the fact that Anna was indeed a princess and he was anything _but_ royalty, he also knew that he'd spent a good six days hardly seeing her, and honestly? He missed her like _crazy._ "Sure, come in."

Anna walked inside, hands clasped as she looked around. "So, um… how're you doing?"

"Great," he lied instantly. "Great. Uh, and you?"

"Fine," she said quickly. "I'm just… fine."

An awkward silence passed.

"So, um, what're you working on?" Anna said finally, flouncing over to his desk.

"Grain report," he answered.

"Wow; you're almost done," she said, peering at it in surprise.

"Yeah, I've had a lot of free time…" He trailed off.

More silence.

Anna sighed, turning to face him. "Kristoff, I'm sorry; I know I've sort of been a pest lately."

"What? No, no, you're not a—it's my problem, Anna; I've just been really busy," he offered.

"Are you busy right now? I mean, if you are, I can leave-"

"No," he said quickly, though part of him hated himself for it. Now that she was here, he couldn't stand to tear himself away. "No, don't go. I'm not busy."

"Oh, good," she said, with obvious relief. "I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk or something?"

She was so darn adorable that he couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Anna smiled back. "_I just came to say today,_

_Let's give us a fresh start._

_And now that you're like 'wow,' it's all like,_

_Warm in the heart."_

"**It's great that you're here, y'know,**

'**Cause I've got to agree.**

**There shouldn't be a door that's stuck**

**Between you and me."**

"_We've been falling out for way too long,_

_So let's forget who's right,"_

"**And forget who's wrong,"** he finished.

"_**Okay,"**_ they both agreed.

"**I gotta say,"** Kristoff added,

"**We should never make this our last resort."**

"'_**Cause life's too short."**_

"_To always feel angry and confused_

_At the man that I love to know,"_ Anna said with a grin, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"_**Life's too short."**_

"**To always get so caught up in life**

**That love ends up on the back row," **he agreed, taking her hand in his and spinning her.

"_Oh-whoa-ho-ho!"_ she laughed._ "I never understood-_

"**I never understood-"**

"_**But now I do,"**_ they said in unison.

"_**Life's too short**_

_**To give up on a friendship like you."**_

"Just let me get my coat," Kristoff said, reaching for the gray fur tunic.

"You're wearing that?" Anna said, surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well just wait a moment, I wanna see…" She headed towards his wardrobe.

"Is there something wrong with how I dress?" Kristoff asked, sounding a little offended.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with it; I'm just saying something else would probably match better, since you're still in your church clothes…" she said, poking her tongue out as she opened the doors.

Kristoff stared. Then, his stare narrowed into a glare. "I can't believe you."

Anna turned around, surprised. "What? I just thought-"

"**Well I don't need your advice,"** he snapped.

"**Can't you just give it a rest?"**

"_What?"_ Anna was baffled._ "I'm just trying to help._

_Isn't that for the best?"_

"**So what, I'm just a pet**

**That you think has to be trained?"**

"_Hold on!"_ she argued.

"_That's not what I said;_

_Let's get back on the same page."_

"**Gee thanks for the support, y'know,**

'**Cause that's just great," **Kristoff said sarcastically.

"**As if I didn't have enough**

**Without this on my plate.**

**Don't worry! I get the message:**

**It's clear I don't belong in your court.**

**Goodbye-"** He brushed past her.

"_Wait!"_

"'**Cause life's too-"**

"_There it is!"_ she cried furiously.

"_Your own self-serving sense of pride!_

_You know, last time I checked,_

_I was on your side!_

_Shut me out if you will,_

_But between me and you,_

_I think it would help if you_

_Would just get a clue!"_

Kristoff's eyes snapped wide, and he whirled around. **"You can think whatever you want**

'**Cause I don't care!"** he snapped.

"**You're the one who married a stranger!"**

Anna gasped. _"That is so unfair!"_

"_**I swear!"**_ they shouted,

"_**I'm through with taking your unshaking, unwavering**_

_**Support-"**_

"_Support-"_

"**Support-"**

"_**HA!**_

'_**Cause life's too short-"**_

"_To care when you go off and shut me out,_

_Since apparently you're too thick to see!"_ Anna yelled, throwing up her arms angrily.

"_**Life's too short-"**_

"**To listen to a reckless fool**

**Who only ever sees the things she wants to see!"** Kristoff retorted.

"_You don't know-"_

"**You have no idea-"**

"_**What I've been through,"**_ they both spat, and then pointed at the other,

"_**Because of you!**_

_**Life's too short to waste another minute!**_

_**Life's too short to even have you in it!**_

_**LIFE'S TOO SHORT!"**_

"_I can't believe I thought you were ready for this kind of responsibility!"_ Anna said furiously.

"**Responsibility?" **Kristoff demanded.** "You wouldn't know responsibility if it jumped up and bit you in the nose!"**

"_Maybe we shouldn't get married!"_

"**Maybe we shouldn't!"**

The two stared at each other, stunned speechless. Finally, Kristoff muttered, "I should go." He turned and headed for the hall.

"Kristoff," Anna started, voice breaking, but he was already gone, leaving the door open behind him.

* * *

"And then she just _chews me out,_ like I was the one being ridiculous!" Kristoff said furiously.

Sven looked at him sympathetically while his master continued to rant. "Thick, irresponsible—she may as well have called me a stupid, bumbling, uncultured oaf not fit to be prince-"

He stopped, realizing what he was saying. _Run the kingdom into the ground._ "…But isn't she right?" he asked himself quietly. "Maybe she finally figured it out, that I'm just… just _nothing."_

Sven snorted in opposition, and Kristoff filled in for what the reindeer couldn't say himself. _"Don't talk like that!"_

"But it's true, buddy," Kristoff sighed, leaning his back against the reindeer dejectedly. "I _am_ just some nothing-peasant who happened to be in the right place at the right time."

_"Isn't that called fate?"_

"Fate, destiny—or really bad luck," he replied glumly. "If I hadn't gone to Oaken's that day, I'd still be just some guy with a reindeer and a sled. I'm not a _prince,_ Sven. And I never will be. Anna… Anna deserves her prince charming, not some ice harvester pretending to be royalty."

_"So what are you going to do?"_

Kristoff looked over at the reindeer and didn't answer.

* * *

"And then he says I can't handle responsibility, and he just _leaves!"_ Anna said angrily, gesturing dramatically. She flopped down on the green couch and sighed. "What do you think I should do?"

She looked up imploringly, but Joan didn't speak back. Anna sighed. "I can't believe he said he didn't want to get married. I mean, I said it, too, but I didn't really mean that… right?"

Anna fell silent for several seconds, before she said softly, "But… why would I say that if I didn't mean it? Why would _he_ say it?" Her mind flew back to how angrily he'd reacted to her suggestion of the jacket instead of his fur tunic, and she sat up. "Was I nagging him? Is that what I'd be like as a wife?" she wondered aloud. "What if… what if we were right? I mean, if being married to me is just going to make him miserable…"

It was such an awful thought, that she might not marry Kristoff—_Kristoff,_ whom she loved more than anyone and anything in the whole world—that it made her stomach drop. But it was an even more awful thought that she might make him unhappy for the rest of his life.

It took more self-will than she'd ever had to use, but whenever she pictured his face (his kind, sweet face), browbeaten and depressed because of _her,_ the truth became painfully clear. "I know what I have to do."

* * *

The sun had fallen over the northern country, and five-o-clock found Kristoff sitting in a pile of hay in the royal stables. His lute sat unused beside him, and his expression was one of dull dread.

"Hi."

He looked over. Anna was standing in the stable doorway, hands clasped uncomfortably. Kristoff looked away. "Hey."

"Can I come in?"

He shrugged, which she took to mean yes. She walked over and sat down beside him in the hay. For a long while, neither said anything.

Finally, Anna sighed. "We need to talk, don't we?"

"Yeah," he agreed tiredly. "Anna… I've been thinking. About… about the argument we had today."

"Me too," she said quietly.

"I thought that, after I cooled down, I'd regret, you know…" He trailed off. "But… what if… what if we're right? What if…"

"…We shouldn't get married?" Anna finished.

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, neither could bear to answer.

"Do you…?" Anna said finally, trailing off.

"Do you?" he asked in reply.

She bit her lip so hard blood welled up, but it didn't stop the tears from brimming in her eyes. "Maybe," she whispered hoarsely. "Maybe… that's what's for the best."

His heart broke at that, but he knew she was right. So Anna _had_ realized, then, how much of a deadweight he was to her, how totally incompetent he'd be in a royal court. "Maybe," he agreed quietly. _I don't belong in your world._

"I mean, marriage, that's… that's huge," she said, voice almost begging. "And I thought we were ready, I thought _I_ was ready, but now…" _But now, what if I'm wrong? What if I'll only hurt you or our kids? I don't want to hurt you, Kristoff._

"This just…wasn't ever going to work, was it?" he said finally, looking over at her.

Her face twisted into a grimace, and the tears ran down her cheeks. "I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose you, but—if this isn't heading towards marriage, what's it heading towards?"

And they both were smart enough to know the answer to that. They couldn't go back to being "just boyfriend-girlfriend." And they couldn't stay engaged forever. If marriage wasn't at the end of this line…then the only thing left was a big, fat _nothing._

Anna swallowed. "…What do we do?"

Kristoff sighed, trying to think. After a minute, he answered, "…We need to call off the wedding."

"We can't put any more stress on Elsa; she's dealing with enough as it is," Anna protested.

"Alright, then we'll tell her once Hans has gone," he decided. Anna nodded at this, not speaking.

For a long, long time, they just sat there in the hay, Anna crying silently, Kristoff hardly moving. Finally, the mountain man said dully, "I won't force you to see me around for a while, Anna. I'll make some excuse and go out tomorrow—check on my guys in the mountains, stay there for a week or so. I just… I don't want to make this any harder on you than this has to be."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Yeah. 'Course."

There was another silence, shorter this time, and then Anna stood up. "Okay. Um…" She didn't know what to say, other than an exhausted, "…Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He didn't watch her go. He didn't want to see that. But when the stable door shut with a quiet click, he closed his eyes tight with a grimace and leaned his head back against the post.

No one who knew Kristoff Bjorgman would ever have said that he was the crying sort of man. And so no one could have guessed that the quiet, shuddering gasps coming from the inside of the royal stables could possibly have belonged to him.

* * *

**A/N: *Winces again* …I said I was sorry, right? Please don't kill me! I'm a huge Kristanna shipper myself, so this broke my heart, too.**

**I know it was a sad chapter; next chapter will be a little more upbeat, I promise.**


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: Alright, folks, this is pretty long chapter; I hope you enjoy it! As a note, the song that the boys are singing in Agnar's memory is "Nul ar det Jul Igen," a common Danish children's carol. A video can be found here:**

**www. youtube watch?v=NVFLrv1ih1w**

**Also, the lullaby I originally imagined Kristoff singing was this one:**

**www. youtube watch?v=vSfkeTpXYhE**

**HOWEVER, I can't deny that I fell in love with the Northern Sámi version of "All is Found," so here's a video for that. Choose whichever one your imagination favors. :) **

**www. youtube watch?v=9yGMgR9XbJY**

**(Remove spaces for both; add in the dot-com-slash after "youtube.") Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The castle was dead quiet, the walls lit faintly by the crescent moon outside the shuttered windows. Along the patterned carpets crept a lone figure, footsteps nearly silent and breath inaudible.

King Agnar took care to walk with precision, avoiding hardwood floors as much as he was able for fear of them squeaking and trying to step lightly as he passed by the guest rooms. Despite his caution, however, the greater part of his mind was devoted to thought.

This now was two shards collected; the second was a blazing crimson like his own, glowing so brightly he was almost afraid the pair would melt the little silver box from the inside out. The king was still not permitted to take use of the shard he had been lent, and this irritated him greatly. He did not enjoy being told when and how to use what was rightfully his. It was, perhaps, a habit; after all, until his father's death, he had been practically forced to beg from the king for even a few gold coins to use to his own amusement. His father was never a generous man by any means; strict and stingy he'd been, and loathe to let go of even a single copper øre. His mother, on the other hand, had been nothing but generous; unlike many of the court ladies, she had never been too proud to wear the same dress twice, and in fact rarely bought new clothes at all. Though the king had granted her a monthly allowance, Agnar couldn't recall a single instance in which she'd spent it on novelties or trivial matters; instead, she'd donated nearly every krone to feeding and caring for the poor of the area. She had been known throughout the Isles for her generosity and kind disposition, especially around Christmastide. It was, Agnar knew now as an adult, due to a weak-willed disposition...yet he could never quite bring himself to look down on his mother for it.

Christmastide…it had always been her favorite time of the year. A memory flitted itself through his mind, and a fond smile he could not keep from touching the corners of his lips.

* * *

"_-Men det var inte sant _

_Och det var inte sant _

_För däremellan kommer fasta!"_

_The family broke into applause and laughter, Agnar included. His mother glanced back from her position at the piano and smiled, emerald eyes sparkling. _

_"Beautiful as always, mother," the crown prince said, standing to walk up beside her._

_"Uh-huh!" a little voice piped up. Agnar glanced back and found he was looking at a pair of spring-green eyes. It was the youngest of his brothers, little Hans, who was sitting happily at the foot of the Christmas tree. "You play very good, Mama."_

_"You mean, 'you play very well,'" the queen admonished kindly. The boy grinned toothily and nodded. "Alright, what shall I play next?"_

_"Deilig er Jorden!" the cry was unanimous from the children, with the youngest of the voices the loudest. Agnar smiled as his mother flipped the pages of the old music book._

_"One, two," his mother murmured, and then started in._ _"Deilig er jorden,_

_Prektig er Guds himmel,_

_Skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsg-"_

_Her voice broke off oddly as she struck a strange chord, and Agnar glanced over. "Mother?"_

_The queen had ceased to play and was staring off disjointedly, her mouth open. Her hands were shaking on the keys. "Mother, are you alright?" Agnar asked, concerned._

_Her green eyes flicked to his. For a moment, they locked, and then she let out a little gasp, and swooned backwards off the bench._

_"Mother!" He caught her before she could strike the ground. Her eyes were closed, her skin felt cool to the touch. The prince hurriedly searched for a pulse, his own heart pounding. The others were panicking; they crowded around and shouted in alarm, unsure of what to do._

_"Mama!" a terrified voice shrieked over the din. Agnar looked up and saw a frantic Hans kneeling across from him, grasping at the queen's wrist with white-gloved hands. "Mama, you're scaring me, wake up!"_

_Her eyes fluttered open, dazed. "Hans…?"_

_"Mother, what happened?" Agnar demanded._

_"I- I don't feel well, I..."_

_"Helge, get Father," he ordered. "Gunnar, find the court physician!" _

_His mother gripped at his hands weakly, and Agnar found that he had to fight to keep his own from shaking. "It's alright," he found himself saying automatically, "You'll be alright, Mother, just hold on…"_

* * *

The smile had faded from his face. Yes, that was the day she'd fallen ill. After that, she'd been confined to bed for weeks on end, until when, on the dawn of Christmas Day… His hands curled into fists. His mother had been the one bright spot in an otherwise unhappy childhood. And that one good thing, that one _perfect_ part of all his life, had been _stolen_ from him by a worthless, runty _thief-_

"Hello!"

He jumped about two feet in the air and whirled around, already reaching for his sword. A small, lumpy _something_ was moving towards him. As it stepped into a chink of moonlight, the southern king let out a low sigh, still breathing like a bull. It was just the queen's strange snow-creation. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" the snowman said with outstretched arms and a grin twice as wide.

"You," the king muttered, taking his hand off the hilt. "Don't you sleep?"

"Oh no, I can't," the thing—Olaf—said cheerfully. "I just sort of wander the castle at night, watch people sleep, that sort of thing."

The king raised an eyebrow. _Creepy._ "…I see."

"So! Where're ya headed, huh?"

"Er—out. To meet a friend."

"Oh, I have lots of friends!" Olaf said happily. "I'm friends with Anna and Elsa and Kristoff and Sven and Hans-"

"Hans?" Agnar interrupted, snorting condescendingly. "Who would want to be acquainted with him?"

"Well, I would! Hey," said the snowman, as an idea dawned on him. "Would you like to be friends, too?"

The king stared, and then said curtly, "No, I would not. Now if you'll excuse me." He continued down the hall.

"Oh," Olaf said from behind him, sounding a little hurt. "Well… maybe another time, huh?"

Agnar rounded the corner without answering, leaving the snowman to stand there, baffled.

* * *

"I must say, I'm impressed," the Snow Queen said. They had met again in the forest just outside of town, away from prying eyes and ears.

"That's two," Agnar said, as he handed over a brilliant scarlet glass shard. "I suppose now I'm allowed my part of the deal?"

"Patience, your Majesty, patience. It's a virtue, after all." She locked the shard inside an ice case and tucked it inside her white cloak. "One shard remains to be found. Tell me, how did you come across this one?"

"I felt my own burn and followed it. As to further reasoning, I cannot provide."

"Hm," she said pensively, arching a perfectly formed eyebrow as she studied the shard. "The magic is stronger. Perhaps your brother and the Queen have finally come at odds with each other. But you must continue with your efforts."

"Naturally."

"Good day, King Agnar."

"Your Majesty." At his farewell, she climbed into her icy sleigh, and within an instant had disappeared into the trees.

Agnar's face was set into a sneer. "One more shard," he muttered to himself. "And if she doesn't allow me my due then…" He stalked off through the trees, the night air silent save for the crackle of snow beneath his boots.

* * *

Breakfast in the dining hall that morning was anything but comfortable. Kristoff and Anna didn't speak or even look at each other, nor did Hans and Elsa. Silence reigned over the four like a different sort of curse, until finally Kristoff (who had been wolfing down his oatmeal in an effort to get out of the room faster) pushed his bowl away and stood up. "Okay, well, I'm heading out."

"Heading out?" Elsa said in surprise, looking up from her own hardly-touched bowl of oatmeal. "Out to where?"

"I, uh, I'm going to check on my guys in the mountains," Kristoff explained awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought I'd stay up there for a bit, y'know, since it's the last week of the season…"

"How long will you be gone?" the Queen inquired.

"Um, a few days, probably more like a week…" He shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

Any other time, Elsa would have seen the strangeness of this, but right then, all she saw was an opportunity. "A whole week! Well, that's- that's very interesting." She glanced over at Hans. "Perhaps you'd like to go with him?"

Kristoff's mouth dropped open, and he scoffed. "I don't think a pampered prince is going to want to cut ice for a week."

"Actually, I'd like to come," Hans said hurriedly. "I don't mind hard work; I think it would be a very, er, educational experience."

The mountain man stared between the two, confused. _"You_ want to come _harvest ice?"_ he said dubiously.

"I would be much obliged," the prince answered, with apparent sincerity.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you can find something better to do," Kristoff said dismissively.

"Kristoff, can I please talk to you?" Elsa said, voice almost pleading. "Alone?"

Completely baffled, Kristoff followed her as she walked over to a corner of the room. "Kristoff, I need him out of the castle," the queen confessed. "I need you to take him with you."

"Why?"

"I-" She broke off, and then finished, "I can't tell you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Kristoff," she nearly begged, clasping her hands with a desperate wince. "I really need you to do this, no questions asked. As a favor."

Kristoff held out for another moment, and then sighed. "Alright, fine. But you owe me one, Elsa."

"Thank you," she said, with obvious relief. "And if you ever need a favor…"

"Yeah, I know." He turned back to the table, where Anna was still staring at her porridge bowl, Hans sitting there awkwardly. "C'mon," he grunted.

"Me?" Hans said, surprised.

"No, the other psychotic prince in your general direction. Yeah, you. We're leaving."

Hans quickly clambered to his feet. "I need to grab my coat-"

"Fine, make it fast. Meet me down at the stables." He walked—well, more like stalked—out of the room, Hans quickly departing thereafter.

Elsa walked over to Anna, who was still staring dully down at her oatmeal. The Queen noticed she hadn't taken a bite. "Anna?" she inquired, a little worried. "Are you alright?"

"What?" The princess looked up, startled out of her stupor. "Oh, um, yeah. Fine. Sorry; I'm just pretty tired."

"Oh." She offered her baby sister a smile. "Well… maybe you should take a nap?"

Anna nodded and stood up. "Yeah. Yeah, a nap sounds good…" She wandered out of the dining hall in a dazed sort of manner, leaving Elsa to sit alone. The queen rubbed her temples and sighed. He was gone, at least for a week. She wouldn't have to see his face until Sunday.

And some part of her hated herself for feeling depressed about that fact.

* * *

_Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop. Clip… clop._

Three-thousand, six hundred and four. That was how many seconds had passed between when Kristoff and Hans had first climbed into the sleigh and where they were now, which was some distance from the town and surrounded by thick evergreen trees, by now covered in a thick, fluffy winter snow. Hans knew the number of seconds because they corresponded exactly with Sven's hoof-steps, which were the only sound that anyone, including the reindeer, had made since they'd set out on this little misadventure.

Great. He'd just lost count. Looked like he'd have to start all over again. _One. Two-_

"Carrot?"

He started at the sudden noise and looked over. Kristoff was holding out one of the carrots from the bag he'd brought along. "No, thank you," he said, looking back out at the trail.

"Aw, come on. I've got like a dozen of them."

Hans sighed a little, his breath freezing to fog in the air. "Fine." He took the carrot and bit off the end, before looking down. There were little dents in the vegetable. "What are the marks?" he inquired, frowning.

"Oh, Sven was nibbling on it earlier. Those are from his teeth."

Hans choked and spat out the bite he'd taken. Kristoff grinned, and the auburn-haired man scowled at him. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"You bet." He took the carrot back and tossed it out in front. Sven jerked the sleigh forward a little to catch the carrot before it fell in the snow.

A little while passed again in silence, before Hans asked, "How far until we reach the river?"

"Eh, not too far now, maybe an hour or so. Why?"

"No reason." There was a reason, actually; he was bitterly cold. While he'd donned his heavy gray winter coat, he wasn't used to such frigid weather. The Southern Isles never saw this much snow, and in any case, he'd always hated the cold. The wind was picking up, as well, and he hadn't had the good sense to grab proper gloves before they'd left, which left his hands feeling more like one of Elsa's ice-blocks than a human being. But Hell would have to freeze over too before he'd admit that to Kristoff.

The mountain man glanced over and noticed the way the prince was curling his fingers in and out, trying to regain circulation. "Your fingers gone numb yet?"

"I assumed that was supposed to happen," Hans replied evenly, although in truth the parts of his fingers that hadn't lost all feeling hurt like the dickens.

"I wouldn't say 'supposed to.' It's pretty cold out. Those gloves look like thin leather; they won't cut the wind and their insulation's probably terrible. You need something that'll wick the water off."

"What do you suggest?" the prince said, trying not to let the edge of annoyance into his voice.

"I've got some extra gloves in the back," Kristoff said, sounding none-too-happy about lending the prince his clothes. "Grab those."

Hans did as he was told, reaching into the back of the sled and pulling off his white leather gloves. The gloves were fingerless leather choppers, coated in some sort of oily substance to stop the water from soaking through. Both were warmer than his provisions, and grudgingly he said, "Astute advice, Mr. Bjorgman. My thanks."

"Oh for crying out loud," Kristoff grumbled. "I'll never be able to make it through this week if you don't cut that out."

"Beg your pardon?"

"That! That right there!" he exclaimed. "Your- your ridiculous language or whatever."

Hans blinked. "Do you mean the way I speak?"

"Yeah, obviously. Just talk like a normal person, wouldja?"

"Oh." He considered this for a moment, and then admitted, "I'm not sure that I could."

"What do you mean?"

"This is how I've always talked."

Kristoff scoffed. "Oh come on. No one's born talking like that."

"No, that is to say- I mean, I was taught to speak like this, since I was a child. It was part of my education."

"Really?" he looked over, looking a little interested. "You mean they teach you at some sort of royalty school how to talk like that?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hans said, a little pompously if truth were told. "I had a tutor."

"A tutor?"

"Yes, to learn grammar. I had another for arithmetic, another for science, one for etiquette, one for strategic thinking and one for swordsmanship. I had a few others who taught me foreign languages, as well."

"No kidding," Kristoff said, whistling. "How long did it take you to learn all that stuff?"

"Well, eight hours a day for twelve years or so would be…" He started to do the math in his head.

"No, don't tell me, I get it. Seriously though, eight hours a day? That must've sucked."

Hans raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it did 'suck.' My grammar teacher was by far the worst, however."

"Yeah? How come?"

"He spit."

Kristoff snorted against his will. "That's great. I mean really, that's fantastic."

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Did you receive any formal education?"

The mountain man shrugged. "My family taught me some stuff."

"Your family, the colony of rock trolls," Hans deadpanned.

Kristoff grinned. "That's the one. Besides, you don't really need the rest of it for my business. I learned how to read an' write, do math, that sort of thing. But I know the important stuff, the kind you don't learn from a tutor or whatever."

The prince looked confused by this. "Such as?"

"Oh, you know. Like if a river's iced over enough for you to walk on it and not fall through; which plants are poisonous to humans- and reindeer," he said fondly, smacking the reins lightly. Sven looked back and gave him a very reindeer-y smile. "How to haggle people up—or down—how to set prices, predict the floods, survive on my own in the woods or up on the tundra. I built my whole business myself, you know; a lot of these guys are fishers and sailors in the summer months, but not me." His face was proud. "I'd head north to the glaciers and bring back ice all the way through June. Get top price for it, too. I was _juuuust_ about making enough to hire a couple more guys when I met Anna."

Hans said nothing for a moment, and then reluctantly admitted, "Mr. Bjorgman, I…must say I am impressed. Your business sense is…enviable."

"Surprising is the word you meant." Hans went red, and Kristoff rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I'm not just some dumb mountain man."

"I never said–"

"You didn't have to."

Hans flushed darker, and they didn't speak again for several minutes. But despite this, Kristoff eventually reached back into the bag and retrieved another carrot, this one without gnaw marks, and handed it to him.

Hans took it and bit into the vegetable. It tasted alright. Perhaps spending a week with the "mountain man" wouldn't be such an ordeal, after all.

* * *

The hour had unfortunately turned into two, due to a tree which had fallen in the way of the path and had caused both men to hop out of the sleigh to remove it before continuing on their way. They reached the iced-over river a little after noon. Kristoff pulled Sven to a halt and hopped out of the sleigh, raising a hand. "Hey!"

Several of the ice-harvesters looked over and shouted out their own greetings. Kristoff hurried over with a grin, Hans following at a distance nervously. "How're you guys doing?" Kristoff said, walking from man to man. "Hey, Ole; how's Per?"

"See for yourself; he came with this time," the other man answered with a chuckle, indicating a young, brown-haired boy at his side.

"Ah, learning the trade, huh?" Kristoff said with a grin, ruffling the kid's hair. "Heya, Morten. How's the wife doing?"

"Eh, well enough, well enough. I'll happy to get back to her soon. Just came up to see our ugly mugs, didja?"

"Nah; the Queen says there's a storm coming in and she can't send it away," Kristoff explained. "Be here by Sunday evening, next Monday at latest."

One of the men shrugged. "Probably for the better, anyway; the season's coming to an end."

"Yeah, and- wait, who's he?" the one named Ole said, nodding past Kristoff to the redhead standing some ways away.

Hans's mouth opened, but he wasn't sure how exactly to introduce himself. He didn't have to. Morten squinted and said, "Hey, isn't he-"

"Yeah!" one of the other said, voice angry. "He's the one who-"

"Tried to kill the princess!"

Hans didn't bother saying anything in his own defense, having realized that such an act would be futile and that he may have made a terrible mistake by coming with Kristoff that day. Several of the men (all of whom were very loyal to Anna and the queen who kindly kept the weather conducive to ice-harvesting) started towards him angrily, but Kristoff stepped in between them. "Alright, guys, hold on," he said, holding up his hands. "Trust me, I want to knock his teeth in as much as you do, but I'm sure Elsa doesn't want her fiancé coming back all black and blue."

Grudgingly they acquiesced to this, though Hans could still feel the glowering looks they shot him as they returned to their work. "So," the prince said, once he was fairly certain no one was about to attack him with an ice pick, "How do we do this?"

Kristoff had retrieved his saw, pick and clamps from the sleigh and was preparing to saw through the ice that had covered the river top. "Look," he said seriously. "This isn't a holiday; people who don't know what they're doing out here can get really hurt."

"Understood."

"Today I want you to watch _everything_ the other guys and I do. Pay attention. If we say do something, do it. If we say stop something, stop _immediately._ Then maybe tomorrow I'll _think_ about giving you a try. Got it?"

Hans nodded and retreated back to the sled, where he sat down on the bench and made a survey of the ice harvesters. They were all dressed similarly to Mr. Bjorgman, he noted, in heavy fur tunics and fur boots that turned up at the toes. They carried long jagged-toothed saws and tonged forks, and a team of fjord horses was tied up nearby next to waiting harnesses with plow-like saws attached. Mr. Bjorgman's reindeer was with them. Hans turned back to the harvesters and rested forward on his elbows, green eyes narrowed in concentration.

A great crack of fracturing ice split the air.

* * *

_"Skapt av vinter kulde og vær og regn fra ville fjellet_

_Naturens kraft gir hjertefrost_

_All den isen vi kan selge _

_Del hjertet på langs kaldt og rent_

_Sag vekk frykt og kjærlighet_

_Skjær i blokker rett og pent tross all iskald blåst _

_Vi bryter hjertefrost!"_

* * *

Over the course of the afternoon, Hans learned several things about the ice harvesters: not just how to do the work they did by also about the way in which they did it.

First off, they sang. Hans was pleasantly surprised by that development. The music was rhythmic and easy enough to learn, similar in tune and purpose to the sea shanties he'd learned during his stint in the navy, keeping them from growing tired or slow in their work. This was good, considering that as tedious as the job was, one could afford to waste no time.

Second, they were hard workers. The manual labor was clearly strenuous, but they kept at it all day and even past sundown, lighting greenish-yellow lanterns to help them work in the fading light. After first scoring the ground to mark off what part of the river they had to cut, the men labored tirelessly to remove the top layer of snow which had built up over the ice. This, Kristoff mentioned to the prince, would take all of the first day, and then this was only the first section of river. Once the snow had been removed, they could finally get at the clear, solid ice underneath.

Third and perhaps most importantly, they were fair and honest people. It had been clear from the moment Hans had arrived that any one of them would have loved to give him a nice shiner (or two), but that reflected their stout sense of justice far more than detracted from it. They listened to Kristoff and clearly trusted his judgment, and not another word was spoken about the prince; when dinnertime rolled around (long after the sun had disappeared behind the western mountains), Hans had been expecting some sort of reflection of their dislike for him in the food distribution—perhaps the cook would fill his chipped wooden bowl less than everyone else's, or someone would knock his stew to the ground to ruin it. Much to his surprise, no one attempted any such thing. When he sat down at one of the spots near the warm fires where the men ate their food and talked over the day's work, he found that, aside from the occasional dirty look, they weren't deliberately unkind to him, but rather ignored him. At one point this would have bothered the prince, but in recent months he had learned to count his blessings, and truth be told he really couldn't blame them for their silence. _I probably wouldn't know what to say to me, either,_ he thought ruefully.

The men had all set up tents along the banks of the river, and with Hans's help Kristoff set up his own. The reindeer—Sven, he thought his name was—also took shelter from the elements in the canvas structure, separating two makeshift cots. The tent was crowded but surprisingly warm, despite the frigid night air outside.

Kristoff placed the lit lantern on the ground in front of Sven's nose, casting the tent in a warm, flickering glow, and pulled his fur tunic off over his head. He placed it at the foot of his cot and picked up his lute as Hans hung his overcoat on the back of the cot and lay down. For a while the iceman strummed the lute lazily, plucking the chords with no apparent correlation. As Hans listened, however, Kristoff seemed to be murmuring tiredly in a language the prince didn't recognize. "What is that?" he asked.

"Huh?" Kristoff stopped singing, startled. "Oh. It's just an old lullaby. My ma used to sing it to me."

"Is it in her language?"

"Uh-huh."

Hans sat up on the side of his cot, interested. "Do you speak it? Fluently, I mean."

Kristoff shrugged. "Yeah, most of it. I'm pretty rusty though; I don't get a lot of chances to speak it with anyone except Sven."

"Did your parents teach you?"

"Must've; otherwise I wouldn't know it, right? Ma did, probably. Like I said, she was full-Sámi; dunno if my dad knew it or not."

"You refer to them in the past tense," Hans noted carefully.

Kristoff looked over at him sharply, but when he saw that the man meant no offense, he nodded. "They, uh, they caught consumption when I was a kid," he admitted, looking up at the tent roof again. "So did I, but I recovered and… well, they didn't. The trolls took me in after that. I was—I think six or something, I'm not totally sure."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"I know a lot about them from the other harvesters. They were good people." The mountain man smiled unexpectedly, a sure sign he'd been unexpectedly roped into the conversation. Intrigued, Hans didn't stop him. "The others say I got Ma's business sense. My dad was a hard worker, but she was the one who really knew how to run a business."

"How do you mean?"

"Y'seen the fur coats they're all wearing?" Hans nodded, and Kristoff grinned, gesturing to his own at the foot of the bed. "It's called a _beaska._ She made one for my dad and when he got some compliments, she sold one to every guy on the crew. Could haggle against the devil himself, the others told me." His smile had grown reminiscent. "They were good together. Life was hard, sure, but together they always put food on the table, y'know?"

He saw Hans watching him and stopped short. When he spoke again, his voice was clipped. "But I suppose you aren't interested in common people like them."

It was clear that he thought the prince was of the same opinion as the rest of the Arendellian court regarding his bloodline and occupation. Hans tried to find some way of denying it without seeming insincere. "…My mother died of illness, too," he settled on. The mountain man seemed to relax at that, albeit not fully. "She was a good woman… she ran the town soup kitchens, while she was alive. If she'd been in charge of the kingdom instead of my father, I think she would have done better by our people. But of course, politics wasn't 'woman's work' in my father's view."

"Elsa would have something to say about that."

Hans chuckled. "I don't doubt it. Anyway…I was the youngest, so she often took me with her. Each morning, the town baker came in and gave us several of his rolls." He winced. "To be perfectly candid, the economic conditions in the Southern Isles are…shall we say, not perfectly level." Kristoff snorted. "It's not easy to be both a successful businessman and an honest one there. The man wasn't poor, but he wasn't exactly rich, either. He was the sort of person my father and brothers wouldn't ever have noticed or cared about. I'm sure helping us cost him, but every day, without fail, he brought the bread without asking for a word of thanks. My mother would always turn to me and say, 'Hans, _ofte er skarlagens hjerte under reven kaabe—_often beneath a poor coat there lies a royal heart."

Kristoff's mouth was open slightly in surprise. The green-eyed man nodded and lay back down. "Goodnight, Mr. Bjorgman."

"G'night," Kristoff said, leaning over to blow out the lantern. As the tent was once again shrouded in darkness, his face also changed, falling into an expression of dull, rueful irony. Hans probably hadn't meant to reopen a fresh wound, but that didn't mean it didn't sting.

A royal heart, indeed.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked it; please review.**


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Princess Anna of Arendelle was happily snoozing in dreamland (a world, it seemed, much more pleasant than the real one) when the door to her bedroom opened, and soft bare feet padded along the hardwood over to her bed.

"Anna," a familiar female voice whispered, and a hand lightly shook her shoulder. "Anna, wake up."

The redhead opened her eyes groggily and looked out her window. "Elsa, it's still dark out," she groaned, closing them again.

"Anna, it's Santa Lucia day," Elsa whispered. Anna's eyes opened again in surprise, and she rolled over to look at her older sister. Elsa smiled back, and Anna realized that a red sash had indeed been tied around her sister's usual white nightgown. In her hands was a silver platter from the kitchen, laden with two burning candles, twin mugs of steaming hot chocolate, and several sweet buns.

Anna smiled and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "You aren't wearing your wreath," she teased, yawning.

"Sorry. I threw this together a little last minute." Elsa sat down on the edge of her sister's bed. "I know you don't like coffee, so I brought hot cocoa instead."

"And _lussekatt!" _Anna quickly dug in, biting into one of the saffron buns with relish. "Mm…"

"I know we haven't done this since Mama and Papa passed, but I figured you wouldn't mind," Elsa said, wringing her hands. "You don't, do you?"

"'Ou kibbing me?" Anna said through her full mouth. "Thib ib fantathtic!"

Elsa smiled. "I'm glad you like it." She looked around the room. "Do you remember when we were children, how Mama used to get me up early, and we'd come wake you up and all eat breakfast in here?"

"How could I forget? It was one of the few times of the year I knew for sure we'd all be together- even you." Anna smiled reminiscently. "I was always so happy."

"So was I," Elsa admitted. "Nervous, of course, but… very happy."

The two smiled at each other, and then Elsa took a bite of her own saffron bun. "And just think," she said, swallowing, "next year, you'll be able to do this with your own family."

"Oh. Uh, yeah…" Anna trailed off uncomfortably, glancing away.

Elsa frowned a little, worried. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, fine. Just tired, y'know." She yawned dramatically to prove her point.

Elsa nodded uncertainly and took a drink of her hot chocolate. "So," she said, setting the mug down. "Since it's a holiday, I took work off."

"Really?" Anna said, surprised.

"Yep. Got the whole schedule cleared, did all my paperwork yesterday, the works. The day is ours; we can do whatever you want to do."

Anna blinked, surprised. "Really? I mean, that's great, but… why? I'm happy, of course, just a little confused."

Elsa sighed a little. "Anna, to be honest, I feel like I've been really busy lately, and I know you've been hurt by that." The younger sister ducked her head, embarrassed. "I want to make that up to you. Besides, I'm sick to death of councils and papers and anything that requires a royal signature." Anna giggled at that, and Elsa smiled. "Let's just have fun today, okay?"

"Okay," Anna agreed happily. "I promise you one fun-filled, signature-free day." She grinned widely. "This is going to be fantastic! I've got so many ideas!"

Elsa chuckled a little nervously at that, wondering just what she'd gotten herself into.

* * *

"Get up. _Up."_

Someone was shaking his shoulder roughly, and Hans started and opened his eyes, looking up blearily. The blurry blotches of color and shadow focused into an already-dressed Kristoff (or perhaps he'd never changed), who was holding a lantern. "C'mon; we've got work to do."

Hans glanced out through the little crack in the tent flaps and saw that it was still dark. He got off of his cot, yawning. "How long until we begin?"

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, a little surprised; he'd been expecting the man to complain about the early awakening. "Breakfast starts in—oh, about five minutes, and we'll start working after that."

"Glad to hear it." Hans located his coat shrugged it on, not bothering to change out of his sleep-shirt. He pulled on the boots and yawned again, reaching for his muffler. "You sleep alright?"

Kristoff raised the other eyebrow, too. "Well, staying in the same tent as a homicidal sword-happy lunatic wasn't exactly relaxing," he shot.

"Don't worry; you'll get used to it," Hans replied without missing a beat, pulling on his gloves

Breakfast was a hurried affair of some cooked fish and grain meal, and then the real work began. Even before the sun rose over the eastern mountains, while the northern lights still danced in the sky, the low voices of the men could be heard, singing something about a frozen heart, born of the frigid winter air and the mountain rains. Despite the fact that Hans had watched carefully the day before, he was not very good at the work. As he tried to pull a block of ice out of the frozen river, he slipped forward and nearly tumbled headfirst into the water. One of the harvesters caught him by the shoulder and hauled him back before he could fall in. "Watch your step! Let it go."

A few of the others snickered as they watched him. "Five kroner says he quits before the day's up," one of them snorted.

Kristoff, who was standing nearby, glanced over. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then said, "You're on."

The man laughed. "You're out of your mind, Bjorgman."

"We'll see," Kristoff replied evenly, and went to get his saw as the others chuckled.

But Hans did not quit. Throughout the course of the day, Kristoff found himself growing grudgingly impressed. As much as he disliked the man, he had to admit he admired his tenacity. Hans hadn't complained once about the hard work all day, and ice harvesting was no easy task to those unused to such difficult labor. Even more remarkably, each time one of the others cast him a dirty look or made a snide remark, he took it unflinchingly. When at last the sun set again on the river, Kristoff called, "Alright guys; that's good for today!"

As the tired men loaded up their last few blocks and headed back to their tents, Kristoff looked to the man with whom he'd made the bet and grinned. Rolling his eyes, the other harvester retrieved several silver coins from his pocket.

* * *

"Ooh, Elsa, let's get some chocolate!"

Elsa laughed as her sister dragged her into the candy shop. It was nearing dusk, and the Queen was worn out but happy. Anna had made good on her promise to have a day absolutely packed to the brimming with fun: from building snowmen to going shopping to visiting the harbor, Elsa had barely had a moment to sit down, let alone think about _him_.

"Ah, hello, Princess, your Majesty," the chocolatier said with a grin. "And what would the two young misses like today?"

"Ooh, well, I'll have two milk chocolate truffles—no, make that three. And Elsa will have three dark-"

"Actually, I think I'll try the milk ones today," Elsa cut in quickly, causing Anna to glance at her surprise. "Thank you."

The chocolatier nodded and retrieved the six truffles from the glass case. As the pair walked outside, Elsa created a delicate ice bench, and they sat down to eat their chocolates. Elsa undid the packaging to the first of hers and bit into the sweet, but Anna didn't eat hers yet, still watching the elder with concern. "…Are you alright?" she said, looking over at her big sister.

"Hm? Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well… you _always_ get dark chocolate," she pointed out.

"So? Maybe I wanted to try something new," the Queen said defensively. She curled her hand into a fist as she noticed that a small layer of frost was spreading over the translucent railing of the bench. _Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let her know._

But Anna was looking at her sympathetically. "You know, it's okay to feel anxious."

"Anxious? I'm not–"

"Elsa," she said gently, taking her hand, "open up to me, _please._ I know you're stressed. But don't shut yourself in again."

_Don't shut yourself in._ The words rolled through Elsa's mind and onto her tongue. Not, _don't shut me out._ Anna smiled at her reassuringly, and some of the ice in the elder sister's heart melted again. As always.

"…Anna, I'm scared," the queen admitted. Even as she said it, she realized it wasn't just half-true: she hadn't realized until that moment just how much anxiety she'd been holding in about the political situation, not merely her personal one. "I'm scared what's going to happen to us, to you…"

"Elsa, I'll be _fine,"_ her sister reassured her.

"Wars are ugly, Anna. We're lucky Hans gave us enough warning…"

"How's it going? The preparations, I mean. Is the navy gathering in the Southern Province?"

Elsa blinked. Somehow, she hadn't expected Anna to talk about all of this so seriously. _I guess I've really been underestimating her... _"Almost. We're about two-thirds of the way prepared, and a small contingent will arrive here in a day or two to help keep the peace. I've sent messengers south to make sure word doesn't get back to Lady Evjen or anyone else up here…"

"Smart thinking," Anna nodded. "The less people who know, the less chance of the king finding out."

"But I haven't heard back from the spies I sent to the Southern Isles, I don't know how much of their own navy they've marshaled and…oh, Anna!" Her whole body slumped against the bench as the waves of stress hit her one after the other. Frost skittered across the pier. "I don't know if I can do this…"

"Father was younger than you when Arendelle went to war last time," Anna said quietly. "He believed in you, Elsa." She gripped her sister's hand tight. "And so do I."

Elsa wiped the brimming tears away from her eyes and smiled. "Thank you, Anna. I think I needed to hear that."

"Sure thing." Then her face broke into a sunny smile. "C'mon, there's nothing you can do about it right now, right? Let's take your mind off it—talk about fun stuff."

"Speaking of," said the queen, relaxing a bit, "How's everything going with the wedding?"

"Oh, um, pretty good," Anna said, giving a quick, nervous little laugh. "Everything's great."

"Have you thought about decorating the church yet?"

"Oh, I thought I'd ask you to do it."

"Really? Well, I'd be happy to, of course. And the cake-"

"Look, Elsa, can't we talk about something else?" Anna interjected.

Elsa stopped, stared. Her sister turned pink and glanced away. "Anna?" Elsa said, now her turn to be worried. "Are you sure everything's okay? With you and Kristoff, I mean?"

Ooh, Elsa was such a good guesser! Anna hesitated a split second, and then forced herself to smile. "Yes! Of course. Elsa, everything is _fine,"_ she said, in her most reassuring tone. "It's just that all anyone seems to be able to talk about is the wedding. I mean, I don't want to be sick of it before it even happens!"

Elsa nodded with a smile. "I guess I can understand that." Her face was so proud, so happy for her younger sister, that Anna felt her stomach twist guiltily for lying to her. "We'll talk about anything you want to talk about."

"Okay, um-" She looked around for some sort of topic, and her eyes alighted on the harbor. "Hey, Elsa, you're smart. I've always wanted to know: why doesn't the ocean freeze on top in winter? Is it colder over land or something?

Elsa laughed. _"That's_ what you want to talk about?"

"Yeah! I've never been able to figure it out!"

The two continued to eat their chocolates as the sun set over the sea, Elsa explaining amiably, "Well you see, because the ocean is made of saltwater…"

* * *

Dinner that night was a slightly more upbeat matter than the evening before. As the men sat around the cooking fire and ate their stew, someone started the singing again- a rather rowdy drinking song, which was followed by another and then a third. Hans chuckled to himself and pulled off his gloves, eating his stew without comment.

The fourth song drew his attention, however. It seemed to be something about a demon mirror, created by evil, which had shattered when brought to Heaven. For some reason, the song intrigued Hans, and he unconsciously set his spoon in the bowl and frowned pensively as he listened.

At length the song ended, and Kristoff stood up. "Gotta go feed Sven," he said, heading off in the direction of his sleigh and tent. "Back in a bit."

"A'right," Ole agreed. "We'll do the totals when you get back."

As Kristoff left, Hans turned to the other harvester and said, "That song… is there a story behind it?"

"Oh, yes, a very old story," Ole agreed, taking a bite from his stew. "Just like the song says; the Devil made a mirror and tried to take it to Heaven, but it cracked and all the little pieces fell down to Earth, and corrupted the hearts o' anyone who found them. Then the Snow Queen-"

"The Snow Queen?" Hans interrupted, startled. "The song didn't say anything about her."

"Oh no, that's a different part o' the story, you see. Anyhow, the Snow Queen, they say, was a country girl that the Devil tricked into helping him find the pieces. They say she walks the earth still, searching for the lost fragments of the mirror, and causing much suffering as she goes- splitting up lovers, taking children, all sorts of wickedness, to be sure. And," he said to his son Per, who was sitting beside him, "Some say it _isn't_ even a story- that it's all true as you and me!"

Per laughed. "Don't be silly, Papa!" Hans chuckled quietly to himself and ate a spoonful of his stew.

_"GYAAAH!"_

Every head jerked around at the cry, and Hans dropped his bowl, startled. For a split second, there was dead silence, before another scream came again, full of terror and pain. Hans scrambled to his feet, recognizing the voice. "Kristoff!"

In a flash, everyone was up and running, Hans leading the group. He drew his sword as he ran, mind ahead of his feet as he and the rest rounded the row of tents.

They were met with snaps and snarls, and the whole group was rebuffed by the wolves' flashing white teeth. The pack had converged on the unsuspecting ice harvester while he was feeding his reindeer, the former of which was now lying on the ground, teeth gritted in agony and curled up around himself, one hand over the back of his neck.

"Fire! We need fire!"

"Somebody get a torch!"

While Hans could see Sven kicking valiantly at the wolves, he knew that there was no way the reindeer could last long enough to protect his master until the other harvesters returned with the torches. Two more seconds and the wolves would attack all at once, and tear both man and reindeer apart.

So Hans did something completely illogical and entirely un-thought out: he jumped into the fray.

Wolves were a little like men in some ways: the element of surprise was always an advantage. It took the beasts a moment to realize what had happened, and in that time Hans swung the flat of the blade at the nearest one. He struck the wolf in the head, and the beast stumbled away, stunned. Still more came, and Hans fought like the swordsman he'd been trained into, wielding the hand-in-half expertly as blood spattered and steamed in the snow. Where were the others with the blasted fire, where were–

There! A flash of light flared gold from the side as someone threw a torch into the pack. Hans could've kicked the man who'd thought of _that_ bright idea, but he worked with what he had and expertly caught the torch with his left hand, not wanting the flame to be put out by the snowy ground. Faced now with the dual threat of fire and steel, the wolves backed away, snarling and yipping but too afraid to come forward.

_"Go on!"_ Hans bellowed, brandishing the torch in front of their yellow eyes. The flames seemed to jump even higher as he did so, blazing in a golden arch. "Go! Or I'll run every one of you through!"

As if they'd understood, the wolves turned tail and ran. The prince, panting, leaned against Sven (who was thankfully still standing) and dropped the sword and torch into the snow. He looked down at Kristoff. "You alright?"

The ice harvester grimaced and didn't open his eyes, but managed to let out an agonized, "Been better…"

Quickly, Hans dropped to a knee beside the injured man as the others gathered around. While he was worried at first that Kristoff had been mauled in the gut, it turned out he was curled around his right arm and leg, both of which had been badly bitten and clawed. The blood was slowly seeping through the cloth, and Hans looked up. "Does the camp have a doctor?!" he demanded.

"Right here." A larger man pushed his way through, also kneeling down beside Kristoff. "Get me bandages and boiling water. Hurry!"

Kristoff had managed to open his eyes blearily. "You're crazy, you know that?" he told Hans hoarsely. "You could've been killed!"

"Oh my apologies; next time I'll ask permission before saving your life!" Hans snapped back. The two glared at each other.

And then, the strangest thing happened. Neither knew quite how it began, seeing how Kristoff was still bleeding heavily and everyone knew the two were hardly on friendly terms, but somehow, both started to laugh—that strange, giddy sort of laughter where everything seemed funny because, after all, they weren't dead. When at last their guffaws had subsided, the mountain man repeated, "You're crazy. So…I guess I owe you a thank you for that?"

"I think that's how this usually works," Hans agreed, still grinning with relief.

The doctor had by then finished wrapping Kristoff's injuries. He helped him stand up and said to Hans, "Get 'im back to his tent; no work for 'im t'morrow."

"Sigurd-" Kristoff began, but the doctor cut him off.

"No buts; I want those wounds to heal. Yer lucky I didn't have t'sew you up."

It was clear that Kristoff didn't like this arrangement, but he followed orders and started to hobble off towards his tent. "I can walk by myself," he said in annoyance when Hans attempted to help. Then, he stumbled forward as his bad leg gave out.

The prince caught him by the shoulders and steadied him again. "Of course you can," he replied evenly. "I just want to finish my stew."

Kristoff looked him over with a searching, almost wary manner, before, much to Hans's surprise, he gave him a rare smile. "Yeah. And, uh, for real…thanks."

Hans returned it with a wry smile of his own. "You're welcome."

And, much to the surprise of everyone involved (themselves included), from that moment forward, the two seemed to be friends—or, at the very least, not enemies.

* * *

**A/N: **_**Luciadagen,**_** or "Santa Lucia Day," is a Christian holiday celebrating the feast of St. Lucy (Dec. 13), common in Nordic countries and areas in the United States with strong Scandinavian influence. Traditionally, the eldest daughter of the household will go to all her family's rooms with sweet saffron buns and coffee, wearing a white dress with a red sash (white for St. Lucy's purity, red for her martyrdom) and a wreath of candles on her head. In my family, my mother always made us Scandinavian flat-pancakes and we had candlelight breakfast before school.**

**Please review, folks! Pax et bonum!**


	24. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

It never failed to amaze Anna how active her sister was in the morning. By the time the princess had woken up, brushed through her bird's nest of a hair, donned a simple dress of forest green and white and had gotten some toast from the kitchen, Elsa had already started in on her numerous royal duties. Anna inferred by the sudden appearance of evergreen garlands along the windowsills and bannisters and red ribbons tied around the candelabras that the queen had finally gotten around to what more pressing matters had prevented her from doing before—that was, decorating the castle for Christmas.

Anna found her sister in the great hall, directing a team of maids and footmen in bedecking the ballroom. "–A Christmas tree in each corner, if you can—but just in this room; it'll be a pain to remove any more than that after Epiphany. Have you finished decorating the library, Margodt?"

"Yes, m'Lady. Will there be snow in there?"

"No; I'd rather not have the guests slipping on it by accident- they're not used to having it around, after all. Ah, Klaus; has someone gone out for a Yule log yet?"

"Not yet, your Majesty."

"Have that done by this evening, if you can; I'd rather not trouble the woodcutter's guild any closer to Christmas. Oh, Anna!" The Queen had suddenly noticed her sister, and hurried over, smiling. "You're finally up!"

"'Finally?' Elsa, it's only like nine in the morning!"

"My point exactly." Elsa had apparently gotten into the festive mood herself; she had donned a long-skirted dress of cranberry red, with white embroidery and lace edging that Anna realized were actually made of snowflakes. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, with her bangs twisted in up at the top, and she had a hastily-written list in her hand of all the things that needed to be done.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Anna inquired, feeling a little guilty she'd slept in while her sister was working.

"Hm… well, I still need to decorate the gardens. Would you like to come with me?"

Anna gasped, delighted. "Really?"

"Really. Will you folks be alright without me?" she inquired of the servants.

"We'll be fine, m'Lady; go on!" Margodt reassured her.

Elsa thanked them and walked out of the room at a brisk pace, Anna hurrying along beside her. "So, how are you going to decorate the garden?"

"Oh, I think you'll like it," the Queen said vaguely, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. As she opened the door to the walled courtyards, she added, "It's rather cold out; shouldn't you go get a cloak?"

"What, and miss this? Not on your life."

The two made their way through the corridors, down the stairs and out into the walled garden courtyards. The morning was quiet save for the sound of a few chirruping birds, and the sun shone warm and clear, even on a chilly winter's day. The queen breathed in the brisk air and sighed with satisfaction. The weather was just perfect for what she had in mind. Her sister was watching her curiously, her eagerness barely held in restraint as she waited to see what would happen. "Want to see something beautiful?" Elsa asked her with a knowing smile.

Anna's eyes lit up, and she grinned. "Do the magic, Elsa!"

Her sister laughed and lifted the edges of her red skirt. She struck the ground with her boot-heel, and out across the garden walkways there spiraled beautiful frost crystals in intricate, rosemaling-style designs. Anna gasped. "Oh Elsa, it's beautiful!"

"I'm not done yet," the Queen told her happily. The princess fell silent and watched as her sister took in a slow breath and closed her eyes. Raising her hands as if she were a conductor to an orchestra, Elsa paused, and then with a sudden motion from her fingertips, snow began to fall down from the sky. With another motion, a gentler wave, snow in drifts along the ground began to spin around. Elsa sent them crisscrossing and spiraling across the garden. They covered the trees with garlands of white snow and glistening icicles, and miniscule gems of ice bloomed like flowers or tiny stars along the barren branches. As they crystalized, the facets and fractures caught the sunlight in a prismatic display, turning the entire garden into a glistening, dazzling wonderland of reflected colors.

Elsa opened her eyes and turned to look at her sister nervously. "Do you like it?" she asked shyly.

Anna looked around in wonder. "It's…amazing," she said with awe. "Everything you make is so amazing, Elsa."

The Queen smiled widely, joy in her eyes. "Thank you."

Prompted by some dual impulse, both turned to embrace each other. "I'm so lucky to have a sister like you," Anna said happily.

Elsa bit her lip hard, and hugged her sister even tighter. "Me too," she replied softly. "Me too."

* * *

The loud clanging of the camp dinner-bell rang out loud and pure as the sun set pink over the ice floes. Hans let out a grunted _"uff"_ as he and Kristoff finished shoving an overly-large block of ice onto the sleigh and secured the ropes to make sure it didn't fall off. Most of the others had already lined up by the cooking fire by the time they reached it, so the prince waited patiently at the back of the line while the cook dished up supper. "Here y'are," the man said with a nod, filling up a wooden bowl with thick stew.

"Thank you." Hans took his bowl and sat down between Kristoff and Ole. Kristoff was tapping his spoon against the side of his wooden bowl, obviously antsy from having to sit on the sidelines all day as the other harvesters worked. Thankfully, they'd managed to harvest the last of the ice from their first cut, and removed the snow layer from the second. Per, Ole's boy, was sitting on the other side of his father, pestering the man with questions. "How much will the ice go for, Pa? When will we sell it? Will we get a lot of money for it, do you think?"

Hans could tell that the man was tired and in no mood to answer such a string of questions—perhaps in a few moments he would even loose patience and shout at the boy to be quiet. The thought made the prince's stomach twist uncomfortably; the matter of familial discipline was an issue that struck far too close to home for him, though he didn't want to interfere. He tried not to think, tried not to remember—but it didn't help much, and quickly his mind found itself retracing the paths of old and ugly memories.

* * *

_He was eight, and idealistic, and hopeful that despite so many disappointments, today would finally be the day. He hurried through the halls, nearly crashing into a servant with a bundle of sheets in her arms._

_"Prince Hans!" the maid said, quickly stepping out of the way. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"_

_He grinned cheekily. "I'm looking for Agnar! Do you know where he is?"_

_"I believe Prince Agnar is having his swordplay lessons in the courtyard. The king's orders were they were not to be disturbed until half-past." A clock chimed somewhere nearby, and the maid's eyes widened. "Which as it happens is right now."_

_"Thanks!" He dashed off again, leaving the servant girl to chuckle behind him._

_He reached the hallway that led to the courtyard doors in record time, but quickly hid in an open doorway as he saw his father walk inside. The king's face was full of a harsh contempt of which the boy had no desire to be on the receiving end. The man passed him by without notice, and Hans waited until he'd disappeared around the corner at the other end of the hallway before letting out a sigh of relief and hurrying over to the open door._

_He was surprised to see that Agnar was sitting in the middle of the courtyard, although he reasoned that his brother had probably been knocked down mid-fight during his lessons. The crown prince was looking in a different direction and hadn't yet noticed the boy, so Hans skipped outside and said, "Agnar?"_

_His brother turned to look at him. His eyes narrowed. Hans bit his lip, suddenly nervous, and stammered, "Well, um… i-if you're not too busy, I was wondering…w-would you like to have a swordfight?"_

_For a moment, Agnar didn't answer, and then his face split into a smile. Something seemed strange about his grin—it didn't reach his eyes—but his tone was jovial as he said, "A swordfight, little brother? Well, I don't see why not."_

_Hans gasped. "Really? You mean it?"_

_"Oh, certainly. Go on, draw your sword!"_

_He pulled the little wooden sword out of his cloth scabbard with a grin. Agnar drew his—a gleaming steel hand-and-a-half—and Hans faltered._

_"Well, what are you waiting for? Attack me!"_

_He bit his lip, sensing something was off but eager to please, and then dashed forward. He didn't make it two steps before Agnar sliced through the flimsy wood of the sword. Hans was so startled that he didn't notice as the crown prince re-sheathed his blade in one expert move and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Go on, little brother! Hit me!" he taunted._

_"You broke it!" Hans shouted furiously._

_"Then punish me for it! Or are you too scared? Too weak?"_

_Hans tried to hit him, but his arms were nowhere near long enough. "You're being mean, Agnar!" he shouted, tears in his eyes. "Mama gave me that sword, and you wrecked it! You're nothing but a bully!"_

_At this, the elder brother's eyes went wide, and Hans realized he'd said the wrong thing. "How dare you!" Agnar roared at him. "How dare you speak of her!"_

_He shoved Hans backwards so violently that the younger fell hard into the dust, crying. "You have no right to even mention her name!" the crown prince shouted at him. "You were nothing but a curse on her, a curse on this family, and a worthless thief like you will never be any brother of mine!" With that, Agnar stormed past him, slamming the door as he went and leaving the boy alone._

_Hans sat there, sobbing, for several minutes. Eventually he sniffled and crawled over to the other piece of the wooden sword. The chunk was splintered and broken beyond repair. There was no way to fix it, so he simply hugged the pieces close to his chest._

_"I miss you, Mama," he mumbled thickly. "I miss you so much… please come back. Please…"_

* * *

Hans's countenance had darkened. Yes, each of his brothers had had different styles of maltreatment. Lief, as he'd mentioned to Elsa, he'd minded the least; in fact, he almost pitied the youngest of his older brothers, who was too timid and terrified of the elders to do anything that might upset them, including speaking to Hans. Karl had always been too involved with the fairer sex to be around much, and when he was, he rarely spoke to his youngest brother save for the occasional disparaging comment about how Hans was "no competition" when it came to women. Some, like the terrible trio, had found no end of amusement in mocking him verbally, or ignoring him altogether. Erling and Frederick had fallen into that category as well, never answering him when he'd asked a direct question, at most muttering amongst themselves about financial burden and how they should have sent the "liability" away to an orphanage at the start of the problem. Most of the others—Gunnar, Caspar and Duartr, and of course Balthazar—had seen him as little more than a servant to order around or a dummy on whom to practice their boxing.

But of all of his family members, perhaps even including his father, the one he hated the most of all was Agnar. For practically as long as Hans could remember, his eldest brother had always known how to cut straight to his heart, to destroy whatever it was that he held most dear at any given moment. The others all had some sort of gain from their treatment of him, some sort of pleasure or reward—but for Agnar, it was different. There was a true hatred between the two, a loathing whose origins Hans had never been able to decipher.

"Per, enough!" The sharp retort pulled him out of his memories, and Hans looked over. The boy had fallen silent, startled, and Ole sighed. "I'm sorry, Per. It's just that I'm tired; it's been a long day."

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"It's a'right." He ruffled the boy's hair ruefully. "Finish your stew, hm? Make you big and strong, like Papa."

Hans dropped his eyes for a moment, a sharp swell of bitterness and longing filling him. He forcefully shoved it down (nothing good ever came from dwelling on the past, anyway) and said aloud, "Mr. Bjorgman, will we be starting a new section on the river tomorrow?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," the mountain man replied absently. "Yep, that's the plan."

On the other side of him, Ole frowned. "Y'feelin' a'right, Kristoff?"

"Hm? Yeah, why?"

"You're somewhere else tonight. Leg's not causing you trouble, is it?"

"Nah. I mean, it's not comfortable, but it could be worse..." He trailed off.

Hans glanced at him, a little worried. Ole was right; Kristoff really _did_ seem to be unfocused. He hadn't touched his stew, but was rather staring down at the contents as if trying to divine the future from the beef chunks and diced carrots. The prince pondered it for a moment, and then mentally shook his head; it wasn't his business, anyway. He turned to Ole and his son, who was dutifully eating his soup, and said on impulse, "Per, would you like me to tell you a story?"

The boy took to this idea quite keenly, as did the tired father, and so Hans began. "Once there was, um, there was-" He cast around for an idea. "-A family of ducks. The mother duck, you see, she had lain eggs, and in the spring the eggs began to hatch." He'd always been a fair storyteller; it came from years of entertaining himself alone as a boy, along with his so-called silver tongue. "Now, of these eggs, all but one hatched into fuzzy yellow ducklings. But one, well, one was different than the others." He glanced over as Kristoff got up to stoke the fire, and inspiration struck. "He was large and gray, and didn't quite fit in with the rest. The other ducks mocked him and pecked at him, telling him he was ugly. And so he got the name, _the Ugly Duckling."_

As he told the story, he watched out of the corner of his eye to see the mountain man's reactions. Kristoff had taken to watching the fire flicker and die down, his face expressionless. "The wild ducks refused to marry one of their own to him; the geese took a liking to him, because they were almost as ugly as he was, but they lived dangerous lives and he left their company before he fell into harm. Even the dog refused to hunt him. He was taken in by a farmhouse woman who was kind enough, but her cat and her hen were right cruel to him. They said that, as he could neither lay eggs nor purr, the foolish duckling ought to hold his tongue while sensible people were talking."

He'd noticed now, though he pretended not to, that Kristoff was indeed listening; his thoughtful brown eyes had fixed on the prince in an expression of surprised and unselfconscious absorption. "The duckling left the farmhouse and went out into the world again," the prince continued. "He saw many beautiful things—including a family of great white swans. But the bitter winter came, and he got stuck in the ice over top the river. Eventually a peasant came and rescued him and brought him home for his children, but the duckling was afraid of the children and caused so much trouble—unintentionally, you understand—that the peasant's wife chased him out again."

Just as Hans was getting to the end of his story, a man walked over and said, "Kristoff, we need to go over the tallies with you; something isn't adding up."

"Alright, I'm coming." The blond man stood up, and Hans could have cursed. This was the part he _wanted_ Kristoff to hear. But nevertheless, he finished the story, watching all the while as the ice harvester walked away.

* * *

The cold which had drifted through the open flap swirled around the cots and the reindeer's antlers, causing the candle to flicker and flare. The sleeping prince rolled over in his cot, restless, before his eyes opened. Hans frowned, confused, and looked over at Kristoff's cot.

It was empty.

He looked over to the tent flap, startled, and realized that it was loose and untied. A chill was seeping through the gap, and he could hear the plucking of lute strings, though the notes were off and the chords all seemed sour.

Hans got out of his cot and walked over, pushing the unlaced flap aside. Kristoff looked over as he walked out. He was leaning against the sled with his lute in his hand. Sven, who had clearly followed his master out, stood at his side. "Hey," the ice harvester said. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yes, but it's alright." He nodded to the lute. "Can't play?"

Kristoff sighed. "I keep messing up."

"It happens."

There was a long silence. Finally, Hans said, "…Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, uh, yeah. Fine. Just, y'know, long day. Lot on my mind."

Hans nodded. There was another slight pause, before he asked, "…It's the princess, isn't it?"

Kristoff nearly jumped, startled by his bluntness. "What? No. No, no. We're fine. Everything's fine. Anna—she's great. Fantastic."

"Really," Hans scoffed. "Then I suppose that awkward breakfast with the Queen was all my and Elsa's doing?"

Kristoff sighed, dropping the act. "...Okay, yeah. We… sort of had a falling-out."

"Well, you needn't be so depressed about it; Anna never stays angry with anyone for long," Hans said matter-of-factly. "Trust me, I should know. By the time we get back, she'll probably have already forgiven you."

Kristoff snorted ruefully at that. "Yeah. I bet."

His tone was so clearly insincere that Hans knew he was lying, but the prince didn't press it. Again, they elapsed into silence. Kristoff's hands had stilled, and he set the lute aside on the sled. The guilt of the secret he was keeping seemed to twist and fall heavy in the ice cutter's chest, growing bigger and bigger until finally he had to say something. "Okay, if I tell you something, you gotta _swear_ you'll never repeat it, to _anyone,_" he said suddenly, turning to Hans.

Hans raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised; you don't exactly seem one for heart-to-hearts."

"Aw, forget it." He made as if to go back inside, but Hans caught his shoulder.

"No, hold on, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Clearly you've got something you need to get off your chest."

Kristoff grimaced. This was a mistake. He shouldn't be telling _anyone_ about this_,_ let alone _Hans._ But before he could stop himself, it all spilled out in a rush. "Thewedding'soff."

Hans stared. _"What?"_

"The wedding. It's off. We…we broke it off a few days ago, but we weren't going to tell anyone until, y'know, you skipped town."

"Off?" The whole notion seemed to perplex the prince, more so than Kristoff had expected. "That doesn't make any sense; she's in love with you-"

"Anna doesn't know the difference between true love and the fuzzy feeling she gets when a handsome guy on a horse offers to carry her off into the sunset," Kristoff snapped defensively.

His words stung, but Hans was too baffled to acknowledge it. "That may have been true in the past, but she's grown up a lot since she met me," he retorted sharply. "Do yourself a favor and stop acting petty; it's not a good look on you." Kristoff looked guilty. "What's the real reason? You're hiding something, I can see it in your face."

"That's not your business."

"You started this conversation. Anyway, don't you love her?"

"Of course I do!" Kristoff said vehemently. Then, he sighed. "Of course I do. I love her… more than anyone in the whole world." He slumped back against the sled. "But she's not just some country girl, she's a princess. A princess of a whole _country, _a country that needs someone who knows what he's doing. Maybe we're in love right now, but I know that she'll never be happy with me, I know…" He trailed off. "I know that I'm not the prince Anna and Arendelle deserve."

"The princess doesn't seem the kind to care about things like that," Hans said firmly.

"She didn't want me to wear my work coat in public. The reindeer-fur one." Comprehension dawned on the prince's face. "She'd never admit it, but I know I embarrass her in front of people like you. More to the point," said Kristoff tiredly, "you're right, I haven't…I dunno, been myself, with all this stress. If I'm losing my temper over little things now, I don't wanna imagine how I'd handle the pressure of being a prince." His face was set. "I can't be a good husband for her, so I shouldn't marry her. That's all there is to it."

His tone was so dishearteningly certain that Hans found for several seconds, he had no idea what to say. "…Have you informed the Queen?" he said finally.

"No. And you _can't_ tell her," Kristoff urged.

"Doesn't she have the right to know?"

"Elsa has more than enough to deal with right now; Anna said we shouldn't stress her out any further than she already is."

Hans nodded, letting out a low sigh through his nose as he did. "…I know how this must sound, coming from me," he said quietly, "but I'm truly very sorry… I know how much you care for her."

Kristoff didn't respond, eyes staring at nothing. Hans realized that he probably wanted to be alone, so he stepped away and said, "…I'll leave the flap untied… You can come in whenever you like."

"Yeah. Thanks," Kristoff said dully.

Hans reached for the door flap. "Can I ask you something?" Kristoff said suddenly, looking back at the prince. The prince raised his eyebrows, and the mountain man chewed his lip for a second before saying, "…Whatever happened to the duckling? The one in your story, I mean."

"Oh," Hans said, surprised. "Well, it turned out he'd been a swan all along."

The incredible irony struck both of them at the same moment, and the two men fell silent. Finally, Kristoff turned away. "Yeah, well…it's a story."

"Right." Hans hesitated, and then disappeared inside.

As he lay down on his cot once more, he heard a shuffling noise from outside the tent. A moment later, the lute's plucking noise returned, playing a mournful tune with far too many wrong notes.

* * *

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think. : ) Pax et bonum, friends!**


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

_Knock knock kn-knock knock. _"Hey."

Elsa looked behind her, startled. "Anna. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, except you're acting like such a shut-in," the younger sister said with a laugh as she walked inside. "You've been holed up in your room all morning; it's our last day of freedom before–" She stopped short, faltering, and the smiled again. "Well, we should make the most of it, right?"

"Of course; I've just been watching the storm come in," Elsa said, glancing to her window. The sky at the edge of the horizon was a dark gray. "It'll be here by tomorrow."

"It's just a storm, Elsa; you shouldn't be so worried," Anna said with a snort, flipping through a book on her desk. Suddenly, she said, "That's a pretty rose."

"What?" Elsa looked over, startled.

Anna was looking at the hymnal, open to the page in which lay the rose Hans had given her on their ill-fated outing. "Where did you get it?" the younger sister asked.

"Oh, um, the trolls' clearing."

"The trolls' clearing?" Anna said, frowning slightly. "Did you go there with Hans?"

Elsa bit her lip, looking back out the window and avoiding her sister's eyes. "Yes, we stopped there on the way up to the castle."

"Oh, okay." She closed the hymnal again, and Elsa was relieved she didn't question it further. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well come on!"

The queen laughed as her sister tugged her by the arm out of the room. They continued to talk amiably as they walked down the stairs and through the halls, heading for the kitchens. As they were passing through the hall by the picture room, Elsa stopped suddenly and fell quiet.

Anna didn't even have to look over to know why, but she did anyway. Elsa said nothing as they continued to look at the portrait of their late parents.

"Mama and Papa would have been so proud of you," Anna said softly. When Elsa didn't answer, she asked, "What is it?"

"I'm not so sure they would be," Elsa confessed, turning to her. "Anna… I ran away after taking the crown. I shunned my sacred duties, left a kingdom without its queen, forced you to put it in the hands of a total stranger just so you could come running up the North Mountain to find me… the very first test of my loyalty as a ruler I failed miserably. It was only thanks to you that Arendelle survived at all."

"You can't put that kind of pressure on yourself!" Anna insisted. "You were terrified, you panicked-"

"Yes, I did. I panicked and ran away from my problems like a coward, instead of facing them like a queen. I did everything in my power to avoid having to confront the truth of what I'd done to you, to Arendelle….Because I was afraid, I put everyone into grave danger, including—and especially—you."

Neither spoke for a long moment, Elsa still staring at the portrait, Anna biting her lip. Finally, after several seconds, Anna said, "Well… they'd definitely be proud of you now."

"What do you mean?" Elsa said, looking over in surprise.

"What do I mean? Elsa, look around you! Your people are happy, you've opened the gates again… and you've placed the safety of your subjects ahead of even what _you _want." She touched her sister's arm and said softly, "I know you would have been willing to marry Hans for real if it would have protected Arendelle. Anyone who's willing to do that is a great leader and a wonderful queen."

Elsa managed to smile a little, though she still looked troubled. "Thank you, Anna."

"So let's go!" Anna said, pulling on her arm again. Elsa chuckled and followed, the happy mood once again restored. As they rounded a corner, Elsa bumped headlong into another person.

She quickly drew back, startled, and then curtsied, though her heart had jumped suddenly into her throat. "King Agnar. I was not expecting to see you here."

"Actually, I was looking for you," the king said. Elsa swallowed and tried not to seem troubled.

"Looking for me? Is something the matter?"

"Only that I've noticed there seems to have been an influx of soldiers to the town. I was wondering if there was some occasion for worry?"

Elsa's mouth opened, and she glanced at Anna. The extra contingent of soldiers to defend the capital if and when the war began had arrived the previous evening, but she had no way to explain their presence, oh goodness, she hadn't planned for this, _why_ hadn't she planned for this, she was drawing a blank–

"Actually, your Majesty, it's Arendellian custom to have representatives of our military personnel present for any royal wedding," a voice said, and Agnar turned. Bishop Willum was standing just behind him, his expression the image of calm.

Elsa nodded and tried to conceal her relief. "Yes, quite correct, your Excellency."

"I have never heard of this custom," Agnar said, and his voice contained just a hint of suspicion.

"Well of course not," Anna said with a shrug. "I mean, you must've been pretty young when our parents got married, right? So you probably wouldn't remember."

"That...is true," he conceded. "Well, thank you, Queen Elsa, Princess Anna—" He gave a shallow bow, "—I will see the two of you later." He walked past them and down the opposite hallway.

Elsa let out a low sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, Willum."

"You're quite welcome, my dear. It looked like he had you cornered; it's lucky I came along when I did."

"I've never heard of that custom, either," Anna said frankly.

"That's because it's not real," Elsa admitted. "Willum knows, Anna; Hans told him."

"Oh, okay. Well then, thanks a lot."

"Of course. If you need anything more, I'll be happy to help." He smiled and inclined his head in a bow to the two royals, and then continued his walk down the hall in the same direction Agnar had gone.

As he passed by the King and Queen's portrait, he, too, stopped and turned to examine the old painting. The old clergyman let out a low sigh, and guilt filled his stomach as it always did whenever he came across this picture. Before his gray eyes, a scene long past came to life.

* * *

_"This is absurd!" Willum nearly shouted, pacing back and forth. "She has the right to know-"_

_"You swore an oath!" the king retorted. "If she ever learned- if she ever found out-!"_

_"Then what?" Willum demanded, turning to him. "Would the true knowledge of her curse be too much for her to handle? I do not think so. Kai and Gerda agree with me; she must be informed now, while she's still young enough to accept it!"_

_"I am her father, and I am your king! You would do well to remember that!"_

_"You are," Willum responded testily. "But I am the girl's spiritual advisor—and yours, I'll remind you!" He started to pace again. "And now you want her hidden away, closing the palace gates? How will shutting her off from the rest of humanity help her in the slightest?"_

_"Willum…" the king sighed, sitting down in his throne. "I love my daughter. You know that. But I'm a king. I have to protect my people. And my daughter…she…" He shook his head. "She…could be…dangerous, to them. And they to her."_

_The bishop sighed, as well. "Well…at the very least, she will have you, her mother and her sister." He noticed how the king glanced away at this, and said, "…There is something you haven't told me."_

_His liege hesitated, and then admitted, "I…have had Elsa moved out of her sister's room."_

_Willum stared. "What?"_

_"Just until she learns to control it," the king promised. "When she's got a better hold over her powers, we'll move them back together again."_

_"Control it?!" Willum demanded, aghast. "The girl is seven! She's barely achieved the age of reason, let alone the age of self-control!"_

_"I thought you were in favor of this!" the king shot back._

_"I'm in favor of her accepting her powers for what they are, instead of spinning her a fairy-tale or locking her away from the world! And more to the point, I'm in favor of showing the girl how and why to control the curse by giving her the chance to be normal—to let her burden be known and to allow others to help her with it. How is isolating her from the real world supposed to do that?" He shook his head. "And what will Anna think, when Elsa tells her why she's moved out?"_

_The king grimaced. "Anna…has been made to forget about Elsa's powers."_

_"What? Forget? That's impossible."_

_"No," he said wearily. "It isn't." He stood again. "A few nights ago, Elsa accidentally harmed Anna. We took her to...people, in the forest, who healed her…but they also altered her memories of Elsa's magic."_

_By now, Willum had gone pale with anger and disbelief. "You- you had her _memories altered?!"

_"Willum-"_

_"This is absolutely unbelievable! Was it not enough to have one enchanted daughter, did you have to go and bewitch the younger one as well?!"_

_"What's done is done!" the king thundered, and the bishop drew back slightly, startled. His liege almost never raised his voice. "Besides," the king said, in a less harsh tone, "it's better this way. Anna is in less danger, and Elsa…she can learn to control her powers. I'm sure of it."_

_The bishop fell silent for a long moment, before he replied, "…I still believe you should tell her the true origins of her curse."_

_"Willum, you promised me you'd keep this secret," the king said tiredly. "Please. I don't want to send you away. But I have to protect my daughters…especially from themselves."_

_It was an agonizing moment for the clergyman, and he deliberated for many seconds. Finally, he sighed. "…I gave you my word and I won't break it. I'll stay, for you…and for the girl."_

_"Thank you…"_

* * *

Willum's memory cleared, and he found himself still staring at the picture. "And now, your Majesty?" he said softly. "Even now, when she has learned control, when she has rebuilt the bridge torn down between her and her sister—must we keep our oath forever?"

His late monarch looked back at him regally, and the bishop sighed to himself. "What sort of man breaks a promise to his dead friend? No; I will keep my word…but I fear I will live to regret it." With one last look at the painting, he turned and continued down the hall.

* * *

Outside the translucent walls and frosted towers the winds howled in endless snowstorm, but within, all was a dead and frozen quiet, save for the telltale clink of ice heels on ice floor.

The Snow Queen paced back and forth before the great mirror, her great fur cape sliding along the glassy ground. "The storm will reach Arendelle in a few hours," she said aloud. "Everything is proceeding as planned."

"You sound very certain of yourself."

"I _am_ very certain of myself," she answered curtly, turning to the mirror. Blue eyes looked back coldly as her reflection raised an eyebrow. "My power grows with every shard collected; very soon, you will be complete."

"You were granted a thousand years," her alter said calmly. "And your power will fail the moment dawn breaks on you come that hateful day. Have you forgotten what punishment awaits you if you do not fulfill your oath by then?"

"Of course I have not forgotten!" she snapped irritably, resuming her pacing. "But there are only four shards left, and I know of their whereabouts; they will be easy to collect."

"Will they? Nearly a millennia has come and gone; now you are left with little more than a week. Time passes fast, does it not, Julia?"

She whirled around. "You cannot call me that," the Snow Queen hissed. "I forbid you to call me that!"

Her reflection stared back coolly and didn't answer. The Snow Queen drew herself up and said icily, "You are nothing but an object, a puzzle I am putting back together. You ought to remember which one of us is the mistress, and which is the slave." With that, she swept out of the room.

The face in the mirror smiled and vanished.

* * *

Night had fallen over the camp, but within the last tent, not all was at ease. Hans was asleep, but his eyes moved back and forth underneath his eyelids, and his face twitched slightly, frowning.

* * *

_The cold winds gusted every which way, furious and frantic. Hans could see a feminine figure in front of him, turning desperately, trying to fight her way through the storm. "Elsa!" he yelled. "You can't run from this!"_

_She turned, face pained. "Just take care of my sister," she pleaded, voice breaking._

_"Your sister? She returned from the mountain weak and cold. She said that you froze her heart!"_

_Elsa's eyes went wide, and she whispered a soft, "No."_

_"I tried to save her, but it was too late!" She believed him; he could see it in her eyes, and felt the success blaze hot within him even as he kept up the sorrowful act. "Her skin was ice, her hair turned white. Your sister is dead." Elsa stared, disbelieving, and he delivered the final blow. "…Because of you."_

_"No," she gasped again, and stumbled away, falling to the ground. He unsheathed his sword and stood before the weeping queen, blade raised, teeth gritted. She didn't look at him, though surely she'd heard the scrape of metal against leather, surely she knew what he was about to do._

_Pathetic. She was so… pathetic._

_For one brief second, the war surged inside his heart, between virtue and success, between who he was and who he wanted to be. One blow and this would all be over. He would finally be a king in his own right, a great and powerful ruler. She- she had everything, everything for which he'd had to fight and strive all his life. Why should she have such power, she who wasted it and abused it, whereas he had nothing? She didn't deserve it; she'd fled her responsibilities and cursed her own people! Was this too high a price to pay, to finally have a purpose, a place where he would be respected, admired…even loved?_

_He brought the sword crashing down._

_The scene changed just as the blade struck her neck, and he found himself on a hangman's scaffold in the middle of the town square, in the capital of the Southern Isles. All around him were people, crowding close to the stand. He choked as the hangman looped the noose around him from behind and then walked out in front of him._

_"Prince Hans, you are hereby executed for the murder of Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the executioner said, not looking at him. "Do you have any last words?"_

_He stared out at the sea of faces. They seemed all a blur to him. His tongue felt dry; his heart pounded in his ears. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I'm so sorry."_

_Finally, the executioner turned to him, and he felt his heart stop. The red-haired man stared at him coldly. "You're sorry?" the other Hans asked him. "That's all you have to say for the horrendous crime you've committed?"_

_"I- I-"_

_"You sick, pathetic fool," he scoffed. "You killed a woman and left another to die, and you really think you can be forgiven?" He walked over to the executioner's lever._

_Hans looked out at the crowds, terror assaulting him. "Please," he begged. "Please, someone, stop him! Help me!"_

_The other him chuckled lowly. "Oh, Hans," he sneered. "If only there were someone out there who loved you."_

_Then he pulled the lever, and Hans felt the floor fall out beneath him._

* * *

He shot bolt upwards, clutching at his throat and gulping down air like a starving man would food. He could hardly think, hardly breathe…

Hans stumbled to his feet and out of the tent, unsure to where he was running but knowing he had to go. Unfortunately, his feet slipped on the snow, and he collapsed forward, hands jarred by the impact. He choked as the nausea and horror mixed and rose in his gut.

The prince retched onto the frozen ground, again and then once more. When there was nothing left in his stomach, he just knelt there weakly, gasping and shaking. _Monster,_ the little voice in his head chanted gleefully, _this is the proof! You know what you are, Hans, you know! Even if you have all the rest of them fooled, you know the truth! You're nothing but a cowardly, sick, disgusting, twisted…_

So miserable was he that he didn't even notice the presence of someone walking up behind him. Kristoff, who'd come out of the tent just in time to see the man lose his dinner, stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He wasn't a doctor and he had no idea what was wrong with Hans, who was still kneeling in the snow, shoulders shuddering with each choked breath. Uncomfortably, he reached out and tried to lay a hand on the man's shoulder.

Hans jerked violently at the contact and scrambled to his feet, whirling around. When he realized it was Kristoff, he stopped. Both stared at each other for a long second. Kristoff realized that Hans's cheeks were wet.

Then that second passed, and Hans quickly wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand and pointed at Kristoff fiercely. "You didn't see anything!" he spat.

The mountain man gaped for a moment, and then recovered himself. "No," he agreed. "Of course not. Nothing to see, anyway."

Hans nodded shortly and looked away. A long, uncomfortable moment passed.

"Um… look, it's really not my place," Kristoff said awkwardly. "And if you want me to leave you alone, I will. But… are you okay?"

The prince swallowed, and didn't reply for such a long while that the iceman was about to give up and go back inside the tent, before Hans said lowly, "…I'm in love with her."

Kristoff started at the sudden noise and looked over, surprised. "What?"

"Elsa. I'm in love with Queen Elsa."

The mountain man was absolutely floored. "You're–" Hans glanced over and nodded dully. "Whoa," Kristoff said, leaning back against the sled. "That's–"

"Complicated. Exactly."

"Does Elsa–?"

"She has no idea. I suppose that's the only upside in all of this." His voice was full of rueful, remorseful irony. "I'm in love with the woman I tried to murder. And as if that weren't bad enough, I keep on- I can't stop seeing…" His voice broke and he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose hard with a shaking hand.

Kristoff could tell there was something more, something that was eating away at the prince like an acid, but he didn't push it, waiting instead for the other to speak first. "You're an honest man, Mr. Bjorgman," Hans said woodenly, once he'd managed to pull himself together. "If I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?"

Kristoff considered this, and then nodded. "Yeah."

Hans looked at him, and there was a deep, clawing fear in his green eyes. "Do you think I'm insane?"

The mountain man didn't answer right away, thinking. "…No," he said finally. "I don't."

Hans stared at him, stunned. "Truly?"

"Yeah. Truly. I mean, I know I call you a lunatic a lot, and what you did, trying to kill Elsa—that was flirting with the line pretty bad, I won't lie. But it's not like you're the first person to ever kill for power, or try to, anyway."

"But how do you _know?"_ he insisted. "How do you know I'm not crazy?"

Kristoff's shrugged. "If you were crazy, you wouldn't feel guilty about it."

The answer was so clear, so simple, that Hans instantly felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, shoulders slumping in relief. _Of course. _"That…that makes sense."

Kristoff, looking distinctly uncomfortable, gestured towards the sled. "Do you, uh…want to talk about it, or something?" Hans gave him a startled look, and the blond flushed. "Y'look like you need it, so…"

The prince appeared to debate this, and then, to Kristoff's surprise, gave an awkward, jerking nod and leaned against the sled.

"…I spent a year and a half in solitary confinement." Kristoff nodded. "When…you're alone with your thoughts for that long, you…"

"Start to see things that aren't there." Hans looked over, surprised, and Kristoff nodded. "Like I said, I spent every summer up on the glaciers; you can go weeks up there without seeing another human being. Why do you think I talk to my reindeer?"

"I figured that was a…you thing." Kristoff shrugged. "Anyway, I started seeing things. Hearing things."

"Like?"

"Elsa. Princess Anna." His shoulders had hunched. "It's one thing to kill somebody once; you can do anything if you get yourself angry enough. But to do it over and over again…"

"Oh."

"Of course, sometimes it was self-defense." Hans smiled weakly. "Queen Elsa especially. She'd get into my cell, and, well, it was kill or be killed. Apparently the other prisoners could hear me screaming." Kristoff didn't reply. "I knew I was going crazy, but I couldn't stop it. Then, one night, things…changed."

"What happened?"

Hans was silent for a long moment. Then he drew a deep breath.

"I dreamed about my mother. Happier times." His voice was quiet. "When I woke up I…tried to hang myself." Kristoff stirred. "I couldn't live with the knowledge of what she'd think of me, if she were still alive."

"But you didn't die."

He shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I woke up in the cell, and the jacket was gone, so I assume I blacked out and one of my brothers cut me down. I still don't know why; they definitely wanted me dead.…But after that point, I couldn't ignore the guilt I was feeling any longer. I had to own up to what I'd done or it would've eaten me alive. I don't think I fully succeeded—but, well, I didn't try to kill myself again, so…small victories, I suppose."

Kristoff watched him for a long moment. At last he said, "…You really do regret it, don't you. It's not an act."

Hans shook his head again. "I'm a good actor. But I don't think even I'm this good."

"And Anna?"

Hans opened and then closed his mouth. He gestured mutely. "What is there to say? What I did to her was…evil. Cruel."

"No kidding."

Hans didn't reply. Kristoff sighed through his nose and looked out at the frozen river again. "And you're in love with Elsa…"

"Justice," Hans said ironically. "The Furies themselves couldn't have devised better."

"I wasn't sure you had a conscience, after what you did to Anna."

"Believe me, I did everything in my power to shut it away." The prince shuddered. "And it came roaring back. With a vengeance."

"D'you wish it hadn't?"

Their eyes met. The man was demanding honesty, and after a grave pause, Hans shook his head. "An honest sense of self is worth any price. I don't think I'm a good man, Mr. Bjorgman, but at least I know that now. I can see clearly who I am." He looked away again, eyes downcast and distant. "And I know exactly who I am without it," he said darkly. "The only difference between me and my brothers is that I was lucky enough to get _caught."_

Kristoff nodded. They stood in silence until the moon had traced itself another quarter-hour through the sky, before the ice harvester straightened up. "Let's get some sleep," he said, jerking his head back toward the tent. "Long day tomorrow."

"Yes, of course." He followed the taller man back inside the tent. As he lay down on his cot, he realized he hadn't felt so at ease for a very, very long time.

As Kristoff reached for the lantern, he said, "Y'know, you're wrong about something."

"Am I?"

"I'm not sure you're a good man. But you're a better man than you were before."

Hans smiled ruefully. "Not hard to be."

"The way you describe it? Sure sounds like it was." Hans stared. "You made the choice to change when it wasn't easy and without expecting a reward," Kristoff continued. "That's something worth being proud of."

"…Thank you," the prince said softly. "Coming from a man like you, that…means a great deal."

And Kristoff, to Hans's surprise, gave him nod and and small, but genuine, smile. "No problem."

Then he blew out the lantern.


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

When the sun finally rose pink over the frozen river, Hans let out a sigh and sat up. Despite Kristoff's advice, he hadn't slept a great deal during the night, and the knot of worry in his stomach had tightened again with the pale daylight.

Kristoff, too, looked grim as he led Sven out and hitched the reindeer up to the sled. The two tore down the tent and packed up the rest of Kristoff's belongings in the back of the sled without speaking a word, each with his own thoughts on his mind. It was only as they climbed in and Kristoff snapped the reins for Sven to start that Hans finally broke the silence.

"Here we go."

* * *

Anna stayed in bed as long as possible, but the awful, sick feeling in her stomach made it impossible for her to go back to sleep once she'd opened her eyes. She ended up getting dressed and heading down to breakfast early, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion.

Elsa was already present, sitting in front of an untouched bowl of oatmeal. Anna sat down across from her, but neither realized the discomfort of the other. Elsa's forehead was creased into a nervous frown, two little lines appearing between her eyebrows. She glanced over as the maid gave her sister a second bowl of oatmeal.

"So," the Queen said, finally breaking the silence. "Today's the day."

"Yep," Anna agreed, her voice overly cheery, although Elsa didn't notice.

"Kristoff's coming back to day," she said, trying to make conversation. "You must be happy."

"Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah, really happy. Just… so happy." She smiled a smile that was as forced as her tone. Elsa fiddled with her spoon, her expression one of barely suppressed dread. Anna, not knowing what else to say, stirred her oatmeal and tried to eat a bite. It tasted bland and flavorless.

The dining room doors opened suddenly, and each jumped a little, startled by the unexpected noise. A manservant in green entered and said, with a quick bow, "Your Majesties… your suitors have returned."

* * *

The two pairs met at the castle gates. Kristoff hopped out first, saying something to Hans. The prince nodded and got out as well, and Kristoff led Sven and the sled up to the two royals.

Elsa's face was inscrutable, a mask of taciturn aloofness. Hans curled his gloved hands reflexively, feeling all at once both too warm and too cold. He gave a formal bow. "Your Majesty."

"Prince Hans," she returned, in a voice that was cordial but not at all familiar.

Hans cleared his throat. "If you'll pardon me, I'd like to go change into more suitable attire."

"Naturally." The conversation was so stilted and rigid that it seemed it could snap at any moment. "I believe I'll be going as well; I have some work to do." They both disappeared inside the castle again, heading in opposite directions and leaving Anna and Kristoff to stand there alone.

The two looked at each other uncomfortably. "Um, hey," Anna said finally, breaking the ice.

"Hey." He hesitated, and then said, "How are you?"

"Fine." She noticed suddenly that there were bandages poking out from the gap between his boot and his pants, and her eyes flew wide. "Oh my gosh, what happened?"

"It was my own fault, really; a pack of wolves snuck up on me while I wasn't paying attention and thought I'd make a good dinner," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just lucky Hans was nearby; he fended them off."

"Oh. Well…I'm glad you're okay."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair. Finally, Kristoff sighed. "Look, um…I acted…the things I said were…" He bit his tongue. "Anna, I'm sorry. I was a jerk. I've been acting like a jerk for a while."

"I'm sorry too. We both, um, crossed some lines."

"Listen, while I was out there, I got to thinking," Kristoff said awkwardly, "and…even though this isn't going to work out, I…I still think you're a great person, one of the best people I know. So…"

"So… friends?" Anna offered hesitantly.

Kristoff nodded, relieved that she'd understood. "Yeah. Friends."

She managed to smile a little at that. "Okay."

He nodded in the direction of the stables. "I gotta go unhitch Sven."

"Alright. I'll see you later."

After a moment's pause, they, too, parted ways. Anna breathed a sigh of mixed sadness and relief. _Friends._

* * *

Kristoff was just rolling up the sleeve cuffs of his good shirt when the clock outside his room chimed half-past. He ran a hand through his unruly blond hair and glanced in the mirror.

Even to him, his appearance seemed pretty plain. A clean blue shirt, a dark vest and his boots were all the finery he had. Though he was—well, had been—engaged to a princess, and therefore a prospective heir to the throne should anything unfortunate happen to Elsa, he'd always felt extremely uncomfortable allowing Anna to use the crown's funds to provide him with anything he couldn't pay for himself. The sled had been one thing—he'd worked and saved for two years for that sled, and she'd been the reason it got destroyed—but her attempts to gift him with a new set of clothes or pair of boots had always left him feeling a little embarrassed. He'd usually managed to dissuade her from her well-meant attempts at generosity, and so in the end he really only owned only a two sets of good clothes for Sunday church, and three for workdays. He'd never needed any more before he'd come to the castle, and he doubted he'd need any more when he left.

Leaving… it was the first time the idea of leaving the castle had really struck him. Although he and Anna had agreed to remain friends, he was no longer her fiancé and therefore definitely not entitled to whatever niceties the Queen and Princess had provided for him for the last few months because of that. It was the first time he'd had a real home, with a roof and a bed, for more than a decade and a half, and the truth was he knew he was going to miss it. The servants, cooks and even the Queen herself had become his friends, even something sort of like an extended human family, a luxury he'd never had. Without them, he wasn't quite sure what he'd do with himself out in the wide world again.

_You'll get by,_ he told himself. _You always did before; you will again._

Get by…and be lonely. Anna was the first girl who'd ever really glanced twice in his direction; among the village girls, few to none would consider marrying a dirt-poor ice harvester like him, and the local farm and forest girls knew well enough, or could at least guess, the sort of parentage he had, just by looking at him. Poverty and prejudice taught little kids grown-up lessons, and he'd learned rather quickly to keep to himself. Sure, he was friendly with the other ice harvesters, but the townspeople had always held him at a businessman's arm's-length away, and he them. Anna had brought him out of that isolation, not merely on a romantic level but on a broader, relational one; it was impossible not to make friends with people when she was around. Now it seemed he was destined to go right back into it.

He was startled from his thoughts by the lilting chimes of the clock once again, and realized that he'd wasted a whole fifteen minutes on reminiscing. _That's enough self-pity for today,_ he told himself, quickly buttoning his vest. _No one was ever helped by complaining. You'll get by._ And with that thought, he hurried out the door.

* * *

The last hymn ended just as the bishop pushed the chapel doors open, and the parishioners broke into conversation now that church was over. Elsa listened idly as the townsfolk discussed work and Christmas plans—and, of course, the wedding.

The wedding. Elsa was somehow surprised at how _real_ it felt. Despite the facts that she of course knew it was fake and that she had left all the choices on cakes or decorations up to Anna, the countless well-wishers and having to organize the palace for the continued influx of visitors had made the whole ersatz-engagement feel incredibly genuine. Thankfully, the last of the scheduled nobles had arrived several days previous while Kristoff and Hans were gone, and she'd managed to situate them into the correct guest rooms, as well as all the soldiers into the normally unused barrack on palace grounds.

"Elsa?" A hand shook her shoulder, and the Queen glanced up, startled. Anna was looking at her with slight concern. "Church is over. We should go…"

"Right, of course." She stood up hastily, embarrassed. Her head was still working on everything she had left to do- was everyone comfortable? Had there been any complaints?- and she was so pensive that she didn't even notice the way the rest of the villagers had gathered around outside, murmuring in low, confused tones. It wasn't until she'd nearly bumped into one of them that she finally realized something had happened.

"Pardon me, excuse me," she said, moving through the crowds as they stepped aside for her. She stopped when she reached the door, her eyes going wide in surprise.

"Your Majesty!" Willum said, looking over. "Just look at it! I've never seen anything like it before."

Elsa's eyes had narrowed again into a troubled frown. The storm had arrived, as she'd predicted. But it was…strange, somehow.

Even as the crowds watched, the thick, dark clouds moved across the mid-morning sun, turning the whole town as dark as dusk.

* * *

"It's getting colder, Elsa," Anna said with obvious worry, looking towards the window.

"I know." The Queen was standing at the window as her sister, Kristoff and Hans finished their lunches. "These clouds are thicker than any I've ever seen—or created. They're blocking out the sun almost completely. And snow can't be far behind."

"I told my guys to come in by noon," Kristoff said, pushing his chair back with concern. "I sure hope they listened."

As if summoned by the words, the door to the dining room opened suddenly, and Kai poked his head in. "Sir Kristoff, there's a man here to see you. He says it's urgent."

A much larger man entered the room. "Kristoff, you'll never believe it, I-" He stopped suddenly, noticing the three royals. "Oh, uh, yer Majesties," he said gruffly, and gave a quick bow.

"Never mind that; just tell us what's happened," Elsa said hurriedly.

"Right, 'o course. Well, I can't really explain it, Ma'am, but—well, we all started back 'round ten, just like you told us, Kristoff, an' on the way these soldiers caught up to us. Said they were from the northern outposts, on the way in on orders of the Queen."

"Of course; go on," she urged.

"Well anyways, they ask if they can join our group, since they've been riding like mad an' the horses need a rest an' all. So we tell 'em sure, and ask why they been runnin' so hard. An' they says to us, _'Well we ain't ne'er seen anything like it. We were comin' anyways, but we left in a big hurry when we saw it.' _An' so o' course we ask what it was they saw. An' they says, yer Majesty, they says, _'Well the blizzard, 'o course. Couldn't hardly miss it, could we? Strangest thing; snow coming in like a wave off th' sea. Ain't seen no blizzard this bad since the Great Freeze, but this was even bigger than that—'_ Oh, beggin' yer pardon, Queen Elsa," he said quickly, realizing he might've offended her.

"No need to apologize; please, just continue."

"So then we sees the clouds comin' in, an' the soldiers, they start to panic an' all an' says, _'Well we knew it, here it comes, ain't ne'er gonna stop, not 'til all the world's snowed over.'_ An' they spurred the horses an' we followed just as fast as we all could, an' so here we are."

Elsa nodded, face creased with a worried frown. "Thank you very much, Mr.-"

"Jorgensen, yer Majesty, Sigurd Jorgensen."

"Mr. Jorgensen. You've been very helpful."

"O' course, yer Majesty. Best o' luck." He gave a quick bow and then left.

"Snow coming in like a wave off the sea," Elsa repeated, troubled. "I've never heard of anything like it."

"I've seen something similar, just once," Hans volunteered. "When you fell on the fjords, just after–" He caught himself, "–Just after I approached you, the storm retreatead in almost the same way."

"That much snow could collapse houses; folks could get lost on their own doorsteps, or get trapped in their homes," Kristoff said, running the scenario in his head. "People could get seriously hurt. And if it's moving that fast–"

"–Then everyone in this town is in danger," Anna finished.

The four looked at each other, and all personal reservations were suddenly set aside. Elsa hurried to the doors and threw them open. "Kai!" she called.

The manservant hurried up. "Your Majesty?"

"There's a blizzard coming in, a large one and very dangerous. We need to warn the people now, before-"

"Elsa!" Anna suddenly cried.

The Queen whirled around, and her blue eyes flew wide as she saw what Anna had seen. Drifting down outside the window were the first hints of snowflakes.

"Elsa, you need to do something!" Hans urged.

She closed her blue eyes tight, thinking. "I-I can't send it away. But I might be able to hold it at bay for a little while." She opened her eyes again. "Get everyone inside the palace, all the villagers. There'll be enough room, just barely, but we'll have to house some in the great hall. I'll hold the storm off as long as I can."

Hans gave a short, sharp nod. "Let's go."

* * *

The courtyard just inside the palace gates was packed to the brimming, with dozens of families waiting on the bridge beyond. Hans was busy giving orders to a team of servants, who ran back and forth between the gate and the castle. "Tell the kitchens to start making ration food—hot glog, stew, the like—and start setting up any spare guest rooms. If there are single wedding guests staying in the castle, move them into shared rooms," he commanded.

"Yes, Prince Hans," the servants quickly agreed, hurrying away.

Elsa looked over at him, her expression somewhere between impressed and strained. Her hands were lifted up in front of her, and a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, as if she were holding back some massive weight. She managed to spare a moment to say, "You certainly know what you're doing."

"I've done this before," he reminded her. "How are you holding up?"

She grimaced, and he nodded, concerned. "If you need anything, just let me know."

"Will do," she agreed wearily, and then closed her eyes again and gritted her teeth.

"The guest rooms are all stocked with blankets and firewood," one of the servants said, running up to the prince. "And the yule log has been chopped up for the great hall's fireplace."

"Then start filling them, large families first. When we run out, fill the great hall. And open the royal stables for anyone who brings livestock."

"Prince Hans, I must object, and quite strongly, too!" said one of the visiting aristocrats, looking extremely indignant. "Are you truly implying that the _nobility _will have to share the castle with the _peasantry?"_

Hans rounded on him with a fierceness that made the man shrink back. "That is exactly what I'm saying. Arendelle is in crisis; all of the royal family's resources are at the people's disposal. If that doesn't suit your standards, you are perfectly welcome to leave."

The nobleman gulped. "No. No, I didn't—that is—we would not want to miss the wedding for something as inconsequential as this."

"Hm. Somehow I thought not. Alright! Large families first, four or more children to the front! Smaller families follow! Anyone with spare resources, please, bring them to the castle; you will be compensated after the crisis has passed!"

"This way, please," Anna said kindly, urging one of the larger families inside the castle. "We have a room ready for you. Follow Gerda here; Kristoff will take your cow to the stables."

"Alright, next family. Name? Thank you. Now just–" The prince stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. "That's incredible."

"What?" Kristoff said from beside him, holding a rope attached to a milk cow's collar.

"Look." He nodded to the sky, and the ice harvester and the princess both glanced upwards.

"Oh, wow," Anna breathed, eyes wide. All overtop the town, snow flew in a huge arc, darkening the sky so much that it seemed like dusk. It was as if an invisible dome were keeping the snow from descending upon the village and snuffing it out like a candle.

Elsa's eyes opened a fraction of an inch. "Hurry," she begged.

"Alright, folks, just follow the princess," Hans said quickly, returning to his job. "Next family!"

* * *

"Is that everyone?" Elsa demanded. They had managed to move her just inside the palace doors, though her hands were still up

"I have a town census right here; everyone is accounted for," Hans assured her.

"And the farming families? The woodsmen?"

"They've all arrived, as well."

She gave the barest of nods and commanded, "Close the gates."

The servants hurried to comply, shutting the great doors from which spilled in the bitter cold. Elsa lowered her hands an inch, then an inch more. Finally, she let out a large breath and dropped them together.

The room was dead silent for about two seconds, with no change except that outside, the world seemed to grow darker.

Then the blizzard slammed against the windows from every direction, rattling the glass in its panes and making everyone jump in fright. The winds howled and the snow blotted out any light once visible from beyond the castle walls. Thankfully, the glass held, and Elsa let out a relieved sigh. She tried to take a step back and tripped from exhaustion, but Hans caught and steadied her before she could fall over. "Thank you," she breathed hoarsely. "I- I think I need to sit down. No, not here," she said, as a servant gestured to a waiting bench nearby. "Get me upstairs, to the great hall."

Anna hurried over to help, and with the aid of her sister and Hans, Elsa managed to walk upstairs to the ballroom, where she quickly sat down on her wooden throne. She surveyed the scene with dismay. The guest rooms hadn't been enough, and at least twenty families and a handful of assorted bachelors had all been packed into the great hall, setting up camp on cots and spare mattresses. Several servants were handing out food and blankets. "Fantastic," Elsa groaned. "This is just what we needed."

"Hey, it's okay," Anna said consolingly. "It's just a storm; it'll blow over soon."

"I hope so," she agreed tiredly, and tried to stand up. "I should probably start helping–"

"Don't be foolish," Hans said sternly, pushing her gently down again by the shoulder. "You stay here and rest; I'll pass out supplies."

"But-"

"Your fainting won't help anyone; if you really want to be of assistance, the best thing you can do is recover your strength. I have the feeling you're going to need it."

Elsa glowered at him, but had to concede that he was right. "Fine. But I don't like it when people out-reason me, you know."

"What a shame; I rather enjoy out-reasoning you." At her continued irritation, his tone softened. "Rest, Elsa." He walked away and spoke to a servant, who handed him a pile of woolen blankets.

She sighed and did as told, glancing to one of the windows. Her frown grew darker as she watched the sky outside do the same. One-o-clock in the afternoon, and it already looked like sundown outside. Something was very, very wrong.

Elsa wasn't the only one who thought so. In the corner, Kai caught Willum and Gerda by the shoulder. "We need to talk," he said firmly. The two glanced at each other, a knowing look in their eyes, and they followed him into the corridor.

Kai hastily closed the door into the great hall and glanced around, checking to make sure no one else was listening. When he was quite sure they were alone, he said, "We need to tell her."

"We can't," Gerda replied sharply. "We swore an oath, Kai!"

"The king never would have wanted us to keep the oath in a circumstance like this!"

"We don't _know_ that!"

"What does it matter? We have to tell the Queen!" He began to pace fretfully. "This is _her_ doing, it has to be!"

"But why now?" Gerda demanded. "After all these years…_she_ has always known of the Queen's powers; after all, she was the one responsible for them."

"I don't know why or how, I just know that it is. It'd be treason to not tell the Queen!" Kai said vehemently.

"It would be treason if we did!"

"We have no choice! Surely if there were ever a time to break our word, it would be now!"

"Well, Willum?" Gerda said, rounding on the bishop. "Have you nothing to say on the matter?"

He held up his hands defensively. "I don't get involved in lovers' spats."

Gerda's glare became fiercer. _"Willum."_

"I'm sorry, I know, it's not a laughing matter." The bishop began to pace, frowning deeply. Finally, he said, "We've held our tongues this long; we can hold them a few days more. If the storm doesn't blow over by the wedding, we'll know it's the Snow Queen's doing and we'll tell Elsa. If it does, then we won't have needlessly broken our promise."

The three looked around at each other. Gerda's mouth was tight. "I don't like it."

"I know," Willum sighed. "Neither do I. But there's nothing else for it."

Gerda shuddered. "Just…the thought of her. It makes me feel cold all over."

"That makes two of us," Kai said grimly. Gerda took his hand in hers gently, her fire gone, and he gave her a tired, grateful smile.

"So we're agreed then," Willum said firmly. "No one tells the Queen until we know for certain." Kai and Gerda glanced at each other, and then each gave a nod. "Good. Now we should probably get back to work."

The three disappeared back inside the great hall, even as outside the castle walls, the winds continued to howl. The children cowered, the villagers spoke in hushed, uneasy tones, and the good Queen watched it all with a worried gaze, fearing for her people's safety.

And somewhere far, far north, the Snow Queen sat upon her icy throne, and laughed.

* * *

**A/N: And the storm finally reaches Arendelle. I hope you enjoyed it; R&R!**


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

When Elsa awoke the next morning, she looked hopefully out her window to see if perhaps the sun had returned. When she was met by the same perpetual dusky grayness as the day before, she sighed. She could practically feel the crushing weight of her kingdom on her shoulders, heavier than ever. She wondered if this was how her parents had felt for all those years, struggling to rule their nation as well as protect, however incorrectly, their small family. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes and pictured the late king and queen, hoping to gain some wisdom from their memories. She could imagine her father organizing the castle to host all the villagers for as long as possible, her mother tending to the families and maintaining the peace with her customary grace and patience.

With a sigh, the queen opened her eyes again. She was neither as experienced as her father nor as wise as her mother, and it baffled her how she could feel so much like a little child and yet so very old, both at the same time.

As there was nothing else for it, she pulled her exhausted self out of bed, got dressed, and went out to greet her people. The servants had already set up a food line in the great hall, distributing out bowls of hot stew and mugs of glog or water for breakfast. Hans was observing all this with a frown. "There are still too many families in here," he said as she approached him. "The younger children have been crying all night and the older ones are frightened, too. The infants are making it impossible for everyone else to get any rest and their parents are exhausted just trying to keep their children calm. Are you sure there are no more rooms in the castle?"

"None," she said wearily. "Every room except the library is occupied, and that's full of paperwork that got moved from other areas."

"There must be some way to make more space…and to think that my brothers and I are taking up thirteen rooms all on our own-" He stopped suddenly. "Of course."

"What?"

He didn't answer, instead hurrying off. "I'll speak to you later, Queen Elsa." He vanished into the crowds.

Elsa sighed and got in line for some breakfast. When she'd finished her stew and glog, she brought her dishes to the kitchen and thanked the cooks there for their hard work. The kitchens were hot and stuffy, so Elsa took to pacing about the castle, thinking. Thanks to the upcoming wedding, they had enough food to last the whole village several days just off what was prepared for the feast, and her father had always kept a large stockpile of ration food for situations such as this, a policy she had adopted. With that, the castle could probably support the village for a week at best. But any longer and people would start to go hungry. It didn't help matters that the ships from Corona had never arrived, nor any other trade ships, for that matter. And if this storm didn't let up…

She found that she'd walked herself all the way down one of the hallways and had stopped in front of the library doors at the end. She ducked inside and lit a candle, which she set on a nearby table next to several important-looking papers. She rifled through them, hoping to find something of use. Instead, all she came up with was a couple of bill proposals she had yet to look over and one of Kristoff's trade ledgers. Elsa let out a little noise of frustration and pushed her bangs out of her face, reaching up to undo her bun and let her braid fall down. No point in looking regal when everyone else was just as worried and miserable as she was.

Her head turned, startled, when she heard the heavy sound of footsteps—in fact, several pairs of footsteps, heading down the hallway outside. For a moment, she considered walking out to meet whoever it was, but something compelled her to hide behind a nearby bookshelf instead.

The doors to the library opened again, and through a small crack in the books, Elsa watched Hans and three of his elder brothers come in. "–For goodness' sake, this is a national emergency!" he snapped.

"Spare us, Hans." She recognized two of the brothers as Caspar and Duartr, the twins, though the third (who was speaking) took her a moment to remember—Balthazar, she thought. In the candlelight, the four figures cast flickering silhouettes on the bookshelf in front of her. "Clearly you're only trying to ingratiate yourself with the commoners."

"That has nothing to do with this," Hans snapped back. The candle's flame flared violently, making the shadows jump agitatedly on the books' spines. "This isn't some popularity contest; we need more space and I think the three of you can stand to share a room!"

"Don't you speak to us like you're above us," Balthazar spat. "We're still your superiors. _You_ take _our _orders, not the other way around!"

"Is that so?" Hans retorted. "Then you can go tell that to the few hundred people in this castle looking to _me_ to be their king!"

_CRACK!_

Elsa stifled a gasp as the tallest of the shadows backhanded the smallest across the face. Hans stumbled sideways, cupping his cheek and letting out a low grunt of pain. "Stop pretending you're some sort of hero," Balthazar hissed scornfully, features sharp and shattered in the sputtering candlelight. "Everyone knows you're nothing but a coward and a fool.

The queen watched noiselessly, keeping perfectly still. "You can walk around handing out food and blankets all you like, Hans," the man continued, "but no matter _what_ you do, when those people look at you, all they'll ever see is a murderer. You're not their king. You're nothing but a traitor. Do you understand?"

Hans didn't answer, his head bowed low and eyes fixed on the ground. The older brother let out a low "_heh"_ and turned to the other two. "Come on; let's go."

Elsa pulled herself further behind the books as they passed by her, and then peeked through the crack again. She watched as Hans's eyes never left the floor until the doors clicked shut. Then, his gaze grew furious, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in that way that instantly negated his better features. His hands curled into fists, and in one swift motion, he turned to the table and swept everything off the top: books, papers, still-burning candle and all. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took one slow breath and then a second, trying to calm himself, before he realized the candle had started the carpet on fire.

"Fantastic," he muttered, hurriedly bending down and trying to pat out the little flames. Unfortunately, all that really seemed to do was spread the fire around. Elsa stepped out from behind the shelf and quickly covered it with a miniature blizzard, effectively quelling the flames.

He started to his feet and turned around. "Y-your Majesty." He looked to the door, which was still closed, and then back to her. "How much did you…" She didn't answer, and he looked away. "Everything. Of course."

"Hans," she began, as he tried to hurry past her.

"If you'll pardon me, I have matters to attend to–"

"That cheek is going to bruise if you don't take care of it," she said sharply. That gave the prince pause, and she softened her tone. "Sit down."

He hesitated, and then did as told, moving out one of the chairs from beside the table. Elsa pulled up a chair of her own and waved her hand above the table, forming a small, clear bowl of ice filled with water. She reached into the small pocket in the folds of her dress and pulled out a handkerchief, which she dipped into the ice-water. Hans watched as she wrung it out and folded it.

"Let me see," Elsa said calmly, turning his head gently by the chin. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably; his whole cheek was red, and she could already see blood welling up under the skin in purplish bruise spots where Balthazar's knuckles had struck. He seemed to have split Hans's lip, as well, which was welling up with blood. She dabbed at his mouth with the kerchief, pausing when he winced, and then pressed the cool cloth to the prince's cheek.

"…Thank you," Hans muttered as he took the cloth himself, clearly embarrassed.

"You shouldn't let them do this to you," she told him firmly, anger edging her voice.

He gave a cynical snort. "And what do you suggest I do? Ask them nicely?"

"They have no right to treat you like this!" Elsa said fiercely as she stood. "You should stand up for yourself, you should've-"

"I should've what?" he demanded harshly, getting to his feet. "Fought back? Why? _They're right!"_ They glared at each other for a moment, and then Hans sighed and looked away. "They're right," he repeated bitterly. "Everyone here knows it—especially you."

"I–"

"Tell me, Elsa, if they're wrong, why didn't you show yourself sooner?"

She opened her mouth, but found she couldn't answer. Hans gave one short, curt nod. "That's what I thought." He brushed past her, throwing the handkerchief down on the table.

"Hans, wait-" But he'd already opened and walked out the door. Uncertain what to do, Elsa followed.

It was not until she reached the great hall that she found him again, standing at the edge of the crowded room. There was anger in his eyes, but it wasn't directed at her. As he surveyed the room, filled with frightened children, worn-out parents, the old, the poor and the homeless, a fire seemed to build up in him. Before she could approach him and demand an explanation, he walked straight through the middle of the room and up to the food line, in which his eldest brother, King Agnar, was standing.

"Your Majesty," he said loudly, giving a much deeper bow than Elsa was certain he usually used, "I do hope you'll pardon this unexpected turn of events."

Agnar raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Well, I'm sure we can manage."

"Your generosity on the matter is most welcome—as is the patience of all these good men and women," he said, gesturing around the great hall. "These people are facing such trying circumstances, what with being displaced from their homes and land." Several of the people murmured their agreement. "Recently," Hans continued, "an idea struck me that perhaps, should you and the rest of my brothers agree to share rooms, we could move a few more families into more private quarters. As a king yourself, surely you can understand why I, the future ruler of these people, would make such a request."

Agnar glanced around. Every eye in the great hall was on him, watching expectantly. He looked back at Hans with a dangerous glint in his eye. Hans's contained a triumphant gleam, for both he and Agnar knew that the king couldn't turn down such a request without seeming incredibly heartless to the Arendellian people.

"Naturally." Agnar's voice was anything but happy. "We would be most honored to aid Arendelle in her time of need."

"Wonderful. Excuse me, Gerda, Kai," he said, catching the two head servants as they walked by. "If you could please set up four of my brothers' rooms to hold all twelve?"

"Certainly, Prince Hans," Kai agreed, as Agnar walked off, clearly in a bad mood. "But don't you mean all thirteen?"

"No; prepare my room for the use of one of these families, as well. I'll be fine sleeping down here." This he said in a lower tone, not wanting to draw attention to the fact.

"Hans, you don't have to do that," Elsa said in surprise.

"I don't mind; it wouldn't feel right, anyway."

"Really, you don't-"

"Elsa," he cut her off. "I slept on a wooden bench for a year and a half; I'll be _fine."_

It was the first time he'd said a word in public about his eighteen-month-long stint in the Southern dungeons, and it startled Elsa that he was suddenly being so forward about it. Drawing herself up, she said to Gerda, "Prince Hans has made a wonderful suggestion; I'll sleep down here, as well."

"But m'Lady–"

"I want to be with my people." A look of understanding dawned on the housekeeper's face. "Move any of my paperwork out of my room and onto my desk in the library, if you would. And ask the Princess and Sir Kristoff about it, as well; they may be willing to make the switch, as well."

"Of course, your Majesty," Gerda said, hurrying away with Kai close behind.

Elsa smirked at Hans. "That," she said, "was _brilliantly _done."

"I've had enough of my brothers' pompous attitudes. These people take precedence," he said with annoyance. As he glanced at her, her eyes found the blooming red imprint of a hand on his skin. His cheek was quickly turning an ugly purplish-yellow in patches, and Hans's own hand rose almost instinctively to cover it. An awkward pause passed during which he decisively avoided her eyes, and then he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, your Majesty." And again, he left.

* * *

The day had passed with a dull sense of quiet dread, which weighed heavily on everyone in the castle. Elsa was exhausted, having spent her waking hours running through the halls from room to room, from the great hall to the barracks, from the washroom to the kitchens and then back again. The castle, which had once seemed enormous to the queen who'd rarely seen any of it save her room and the dining hall, now seemed incredibly small and claustrophobically full of people.

She'd never thought she would say it, but she was beyond grateful for the presence of a certain auburn-haired prince. Hans had taken care of any number of requests and royal duties that normally would have fallen on her shoulders, handling the sorting of different families and ensuring that everyone had been fed and supplied with firewood for their rooms. He'd placated any angry nobility with that silver tongue and had even gone to the liberty of writing up a rations sheet, detailing how much they had and how long they could survive off it. Despite his good intentions, his estimations were far too meager to help her mood. Now she was sitting in her throne, feeling absolutely beaten with fatigue, watching the prince go from family to family and quietly check on their well-being. She could still see the purplish marks of the bruise on his face, but he hardly seemed to pay them any mind. Whenever anyone asked, he dismissed it with a laugh and a vague allusion to an angry citizen, and skillfully changed the subject. Anger bubbled in the queen's stomach as again she thought of Balthazar so carelessly striking him. What a sickening way to treat one's own sibling! Why, if anyone ever dared to do that to Anna…

"Elsa? Hey, Elsa?"

"What?" She started and looked down. Olaf was standing at her feet. "Oh. Olaf, I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Uh-huh."

She paused, waiting a moment before she remembered that one had to be direct with the snowman. "…Well, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were okay."

"Oh. I'm alright, Olaf, I-" She yawned. "I'll be fine."

"What were you looking at?" he said, interested. "You were kind of staring off at nothing, so…"

"Hm? Oh, um…" She trailed off, uncertain what to say. "I don't remember."

"You were looking over that way." He snapped his twig fingers. "I know! Were you looking at Hans?"

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again and nodded awkwardly.

"Ooh! I guessed it! I guessed it!" Elsa was grateful that he didn't ask why she'd been staring at the prince. "Gee, he's really good at this stuff, did you know that? Making sure everyone's okay. But he's tired, I think," Olaf said frankly. "He keeps sitting down, like he wants to rest, but then someone else needs something and he gets up again."

"He's working so hard," Elsa murmured, frowning in confusion. "I don't understand why."

"Well he's going to be king, right? So maybe he's trying to show that he can be a good one, not a bad one."

The Queen looked down at the snowman in surprise. "…Yes," she said finally. "Yes, that must be it."

But it couldn't be, and she knew that, because Hans _wasn't_ going to be king, at least not a king anywhere near here. And he'd told his brothers that he wasn't trying to earn the villagers' support… so what was he trying to prove? And to whom?

"You look tired, too," Olaf said, cutting into her thoughts. "You should go to bed."

"I can't," she said wearily. "What if someone needs my help?"

The snowman shrugged as best a snowman could and nodded to the prince. "I think he's got it."

She hesitated, and then nodded with a sigh. "Maybe you're right, Olaf; I think I'll turn in for the night."

"Okay. Goodnight, Elsa."

"Goodnight, Olaf." She stood and walked over to her pallet and blanket. All around her, people were quieting down for the evening, and listening to them, Elsa realized that she didn't feel much like a queen. She just felt tired—tired and very, very worried.

Soon enough her worry gave way into exhaustion, and she found herself absently watching flames of the fire dance gold in front of her eyes, blurring, fading into a wash of yellow and gold, and then to a deep, quiet darkness…

* * *

_"Elsa?"_

_She turned, startled. Hans was looking at her, confused. "Are you listening?"_

_"Hm? Oh. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I guess I was a little lost in thought."_

_"Must have been some thought," he commented. She chuckled. "What was it about?"_

_She frowned a little at that, looking around. The garden was quiet save for the sound of crickets in the green night, and what sounded like strains of a waltz wafted in from some ways away, as if there were a party going on back inside the palace. "…That's strange. I can't quite remember." She paused again, and then shook herself slightly. "What were we talking about?"_

_He smiled—really it was a charming smile, Elsa decided. "I was just mentioning how utterly stunning you are tonight."_

_She ducked her head and smoothed her dress, trying not to blush. Well, it was true—she did look lovely. Her gown was perfect, all palest blue and sheer chiffon, modest yet flattering and showing off her pale shoulders. It seemed she'd let her hair down for a change, and even as she noticed it, she felt the prince reach up and run his fingers through it. Her heart leapt wildly, and she looked up again._

_"May I?" Hans requested softly._

_Her mouth seemed to have become incapable of forming coherent speech (or any noise at all, for that matter), so she merely nodded. The prince touched her cheek gently with his thumb and leaned in. She closed her eyes instinctively as she felt the tip of his nose brush hers._

_"Elsa?!"_

_She started and turned. Anna was staring at her, a look of utter hurt and accusation blooming across her expression. "Anna-" the queen said quickly, standing up, but the princess cut her off._

_"Him, Elsa?! I can't believe you! I thought you were my sister, I thought you loved me!"_

_"Please, just let me explain-"_

_"No! You betrayed me, Elsa! I never want to talk to you again; just leave me alone!" She whirled around and began to run away._

_"Anna, wait!" The queen stretched out her hand to her sister, but even as she did so, a blast of ice flew from her fingertips, striking Anna in the back- right above the heart._

_"No!" Elsa cried, rushing forward. Anna turned just in time to see her._

_"Elsa… how could you?" she breathed, and then her face froze over to icy blue._

_"No! A-Anna!" The queen threw herself upon the statue of her sister, weeping, her sobs echoing through the frozen fjords. Time had stilled, gray-white snow suspended, again that awful moment, that harsh truth that Anna was dead, she had killed her own sister…_

_"Well, isn't this just precious?" She looked back through tear-filled eyes and saw Hans leering at the two, clad in his gray overcoat and his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Really, it's quite charming. Fitting, even."_

_"No, please-" Elsa begged as he drew the weapon, holding her frozen sister all the tighter in a futile effort to protect her._

_"Two royals," Hans said with gloating satisfaction, "with one sword." He plunged the blade forward._

* * *

Elsa choked on her scream as she sat up, grasping at her abdomen and tears running down her face—in fear, in horror, in absolute guilt and agony. She could feel the ice slipping out of her control, into the floor, and she scrambled to her feet. _Run, run,_ the little voice taunted her. _Run before it happens again! Kill Anna or leave her behind, you'll hurt her no matter what you do. _

She scrambled to obey, stumbling to her feet and running for the door without really looking where she was going. She tripped over a sleeping villager and slammed into the shoulder of a man, nearly knocking him down. This only made her panic heighten, and she pushed him out of the way and ran faster, out into the hall, slamming the doors, feet pounding on the carpet until she found herself completely alone and in the dark._ Run away, little Queen, _the voice hissed all the more menacingly, and if Elsa had been able to think straight she may have realized that it was her own. _Run away like the coward you are. That's all you could ever do, Elsa, that's the only thing you're good at: being alone._

She let out a strangled, sob-like noise at the thought. The frost that had followed her with every footstep had turned into snow, snow that was beginning to whirl around her. "No, no, _please,"_ she begged through her tears, trying to pull her hands in close. No gloves. She had no gloves! Nothing to control her, nothing to help her, and the snow was swirling faster and faster–

"Elsa!"

A voice cut through the winds, and she turned. A man was trying to fight his way through the snow. "Stay away, just stay away!" she pleaded, trying to back away. She barely had time to remember that her ice had coated the whole floor before her foot slipped, and she fell with a sharp cry. The winds were screaming, her panic whipping them like a whirlpool, and she couldn't stand, couldn't even breathe–

"Elsa, calm down!" She felt two arms wrap around her, and her desperation to escape crumbled as she clung to the man out of desperation, sobbing into his shoulder out of sheer terror.

Hans had always been startled by physical contact with the Queen, and now was no different. From that fateful day two summers ago when he'd carried her unconscious form back to Arendelle on his horse, to this moment here in the corridor, he'd always expected her to feel…ethereal, somehow, like snow melting away. Instead she was, as always, tangible and real and altogether human. A human woman weeping into his arms as if she'd lost her best friend.

Her sobs contained words now, and he managed to make them out: "Don't leave me, please don't leave me alone…"

"I'm not," he said reassuringly. "I'm right here." It was ironic, somehow, that not a minute before this she had been begging him to go away, and now she was holding on to him in a vice grip, terrified of letting go.

_She's not yours,_ the little voice inside him hissed. _She will never be yours, Hans._ And he knew the voice was telling the truth and that he was being foolish, but he couldn't help himself because something about it just felt so _right,_ pretending that she was _his _to care for, _his_ to provide for and protect. "Everything's alright," he continued calmly, knowing that the last thing she needed was for him to sound afraid. "Everything is going to be fine. You just need to calm down."

"B-but–"

"Think of your sister. Your family." His embrace grew tighter as the winds roared louder. "Think of them, Elsa! And breathe. Slow breaths."

She managed one, and then another. _Anna. Think of Anna. Kristoff. Olaf. Mama and Papa._ She chanted this over and over again as Hans held her, and somehow it seemed to work, because he was warm and strong and for once, she felt safe, safe from the powers that could be so destructive and dangerous and that try as she might, she couldn't always control. Elsa heard the winds die down and felt the snow settle in flakes on her cool skin. When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by windswept snowdrifts, but the blizzard had disappeared.

Slowly, she let out a shaky breath. "Thank you," she told him honestly, pulling away. "How did you find me? Did I wake you up?

"I'm a light sleeper." He hesitated, and then said, "…It wasn't real, alright? You didn't kill her."

Her eyes widened. "How did you-?"

"Call it intuition." When she didn't reply, he nodded towards the end of the corridor. "Anna's asleep right now in the great hall, Elsa. She's _fine._"

"I know," she said wearily. "I know, I just…" She bit her lip hard against the tears burning again behind her eyes. "…She almost died," she said softly.

"Elsa, you are not at fault for anything that happened that day!" Hans said emphatically.

"I froze her heart!" she retorted. "I nearly killed my own sister!"

"An action which would have had no effect if _I _hadn't locked her in a study to die," he shot back. "You can't put that sort of culpability on yourself; if it hadn't been for my actions, she would have found Kristoff, had that 'true love's kiss' she was so excited about, and everything would have been _fine._ The only person at fault that day was me."

"I _ran away!"_

He paused. "Well. You're not running away now, are you?"

Elsa gulped down a sob. "Wh-what?"

"You're the only person in this castle who has the option of leaving. If you wanted to, you could leave all of this—the stress, the responsibility, the uncertainty…" He gripped her shoulder. "But you _haven't_. Elsa, you are a _good queen."_

"N-Not as good as…"

"As who?" She drew a breath and didn't answer. "Me?" Hans demanded. "You're joking."

"You t-took care of them…"

"And so are you. Elsa, listen to me…" He sat down beside her. "I…would not have made a good king, any more than Anna would have made a good queen." She gave him an affronted look, and he held up his hands. "Anna is a thoroughly moral person. I am a thoroughly practical one. Either alone is not enough to run a kingdom; a good monarch needs both. Elsa, you _have_ both. You're handling all of this—the storm, the political crisis, all of it—quite magnificently. And you haven't tried to assassinate any foreign nobility," he pointed out, "so you've already got two up on me." Elsa chuckled weakly despite herself and mopped her eyes. "Besides, you know the remedy for a frozen heart now, remember?"

That was right, Elsa realized. She _did_ know how to cure a frozen heart. If, Heaven forbid, anyone was ever struck by her powers again, it could be easily fixed. Especially if said person were Anna—Anna, who loved and was loved by everyone. Still, as reasonable as his logic was, it was not enough to quell Elsa's fears. "…But what if I hurt her again?" she whispered, for the first time voicing the fears she'd kept hidden down for months on end.

"Elsa, listen to me," Hans told her gently. "Whatever this nightmare may have seemed to be, you have to remember that it was just an illusion. Your sister knows that you would never try to hurt her." He put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him, and she saw that he was being sincere. "Anna doesn't blame you for what happened, so neither should you blame yourself."

The warmth of his hand despite the chill of the air seemed to bring her back to reality, and Elsa let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You're right. Anna's fine… it was just a nightmare."

"Exactly," he said reassuringly. "And as to this-" He gestured around the snow-covered room, "-you don't need to worry about this, either. You had a bad dream, you've been incredibly stressed… you know how to control your powers, Elsa. You just need to remember that." He stood up and offered her a hand. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."

He helped her up, and after she thawed the frozen hallway, he led her back over into the other room. At any other time, Elsa would have shaken off the protective hand he kept on her shoulder, but as it was, she was grateful for the human contact. He let go as they approached her pallet beside the fire and stood a respectful few feet away as she lay down again. "Try to get some more rest," he advised her. "The last thing we need is for you to be exhausted tomorrow."

"Of course. And, again… thank you," she said sincerely.

He smiled slightly and gave a brief nod. As he started to walk away, she recalled suddenly that she'd knocked into someone, a male someone, on her way into the hall. "Hans?" she said on impulse. He glanced back, surprised. "…Did I really wake you up?"

His expression was inscrutable, but she thought his green eyes, reflecting the deep scarlet light of the fire, seemed a little ironic. "Go to sleep, Elsa," he said, and then turned and walked away.


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

The crowded castle was busy with activity. It was nearing dinnertime, from what it seemed, and the whole village was eager to receive their rations. The queen herself was passing out bread rolls, while the princess made her way around the hall with a small team of maids carrying hot glog, reassuring the citizens as she went. The prince came and went at a quick pace, speaking with the nobles, while the ice harvester checked in on the farming families.

It wasn't just the royalty who were trying to keep up good cheer, either; children, though frightened, strove to be as helpful as they could, the elder among them keeping the younger from growing unhappy, and all the parents did their best to shield their young ones from their own worry. Neighbors greeted each other kindly in an effort to keep up hope, and life continued on as normally as possible in the crowded castle.

The Snow Queen glowered as she waved a hand in front of the mirror, and the image of the Great Hall vanished from its reflection. "These mortals are incorrigible!" she spat, pacing away as her own reflection returned to the glass. "A disaster of these proportions should have worked perfectly! People turning on each other, looking out for their own good- a wonderful cacophony of selfishness and greed! And instead they band together like ignorant little children playing a war game- blast them!"

"You have failed," her reflection said coolly.

"I haven't failed yet," the Snow Queen hissed. "There is darkness in them- there is darkness in everyone- and I _will_ find it."

"Of course it is there, but will you find it in time? The mortals seem to be outsmarting you."

"They can hardly outwit something they don't even know exists," she said dismissively.

"You were once outwitted by a little girl without shoes and boy who liked mathematics. This queen is powerful and her friends have skills of their own; moreover, the prince could very easily discover his own abilities at any moment. I wouldn't underestimate them."

"Well the very least you could do is provide a helpful suggestion," the Snow Queen said irritably.

"If you are looking for advice, I have only this: more tension. More stress. Give them more pressing opportunities to show their true natures, to bring out their selfishness and anger."

"Hm…" She seemed to consider this, and then waved her hand in front of the mirror. Her reflection vanished, and she saw a man with a sledge and two reindeer, leading his small family through the swirling snows. "Yes," she cooed, smiling coldly. "Yes, indeed. Selfishness. I will make them selfish." She waved her hand, and a miniature oak tree, formed entirely of clear ice, appeared in her palm. With a flick of her wrist, it shattered and fell to the floor.

* * *

"Come on, boys. Just- just a little ways further, I promise."

The beasts groaned in disapproval, and the man looked back at his family, shielding his eyes from the blowing snow with his gloved hands. For more than three days they'd been lost in these woods, ever since the blizzard had overtaken them just after they'd come over the ridge of a large mountain to the north. Standing on the snowy peaks, he'd been able to see a small town not so far below, houses with chimney stacks puffing out smoke from warm fires within. They'd been so close, so _close…_

And now, he had no idea if they were anywhere near the town anymore, or if they'd passed it by somehow. His mind worked frantically as he trudged through the knee-length drifts. They were out of food; he and his wife had gone hungry the last two days to feed the little ones, and now even that was gone. If he didn't find shelter soon, they'd either starve or freeze to death.

His reindeer stumbled and skidded as they went over a small ridge in the land, ending up in what appeared to be some sort of clearing. The man tripped over a hidden tree root and fell flat in the snow.

He almost gave up then, exhausted and hopeless, ready to turn to his wife and tell her sorrowfully that they'd never find the town, that he'd doomed his small family to die out here in the icy darkness.

But then… but then, he felt it: the way the ground, far beneath the snow, was even and flat, the way the earth started up and away from it, as if the area had been cut into the ground. His eyes peered through the blowing snows, and he saw how the trees cut through in straight lines on either side. Why, this was no mere clearing, this was a-

"A path!" he shouted out jubilantly. "I found a path!" And a well-used one, too, looking at the size. He started to lead his animals forward once again, with renewed vigor. The reindeer, however, had had enough, pulling and resisting at the reigns. Quickly, his wife handed the baby to their small daughter on the sled behind the reindeer and began to help him pull them through. They were going to make it, the man thought. They were going to be all right!

_CRRRACK!_

A twisting, screeching noise echoed from overhead. The man's eyes went wide, and he saw, like a looming shadow, something large and long falling out of the sky.

He tried to grab for his daughter on the back of the sled, but the tree crashed to the ground in front of him, knocking him over. Stars danced in front of his eyes. When he could see straight again, he scrambled to his feet. "Áile!" he shouted against the winds, scrambling back to where the sled had flipped over, the tree crushing it. He could hear the baby wailing, but he could not see his daughter. "Áile!"

"Papa!" he heard a frightened voice call back, and his shoulders slumped in relief. A second later, he began to panic again as he realized his daughter, while unharmed, was trapped underneath the sled. "Papa, help! Help!"

He tried desperately to lift the tree as his wife rescued their howling infant son from a nearby snowdrift (the girl had accidentally let go when the tree had fallen), but it was too heavy. "We need to go get help!" his wife told him.

"We can't leave her!"

"We have no choice! She's trapped; if we don't find help, she won't survive!"

Realizing that she was right, he bent down again beside the overturned sled. "We're going to find help, Áile!"

"Papa, I'm scared!" she sobbed.

"We'll be back! I promise!"

"Papa!"

"I promise," he repeated again, voice breaking, and then unhitched the reindeer from the twisted lines and hopped on the nearest one. His wife climbed aboard the second, holding her infant son tightly in her arms. The man snapped the reins, praying that somehow he could keep his promise. _"Kyah!"_

* * *

"You folks okay? Got everything you need?"

"We're fine, Sir Bjorgman," the family's mother reassured him. "Please, tell the princess and the queen how grateful we are for their generosity- and for yours as well, of course."

"Don't worry about it; we're happy to do it," the blond man said reassuringly. "Well, if you need anything, just let someone know."

"We will. Thank you."

He walked away, nearly bumping into Hans. "Oh, hey. Everyone okay upstairs?

"They're all fine. Down here?"

"They're making do. Did you thank that duke of wherever for agreeing to pay off the family's house that fell in?"

"I did. He said to think nothing of it."

Kristoff nodded. "Nothing like a natural disaster to bring all sorts together, huh?"

"Isn't that the truth," Hans said with an ironic chuckle.

"Hans! Kristoff!"

Both turned as Anna came running up to them. "Anna?" Kristoff said, startled.

"Come quick! A family just got here!"

The two glanced at each other, baffled, and hurried after the princess, down the stairs and into the entry hall. Anna stopped at the gates, through which the guards had just let in a man, his wife and an infant. The family looked exhausted, and what parts of their clothes weren't covered in snow were soaked, reindeer-hide tunics. A group of people, peasants and nobility alike, had gathered around in surprise. Kristoff's eyes went wide as he watched the man try to speak desperately with the guard in a foreign tongue.

"Who are they?" Hans asked Elsa, who was standing nearby.

"Sámi herdsmen, if their clothes and animals are anything to judge by. They just arrived a few minutes ago."

"Where are you from?" one of the nearby noblemen, whom Hans recognized as Lord Finnmork, snapped angrily, grabbing at the man's shoulder. The man whirled around, startled. "You aren't from around here!"

The man knocked the lord's hand away, snapping something back. The nobleman's eyes went wide, affronted. "How dare you! Why, we ought to throw you back out in the storm!"

"We'll do no such thing; they'd never survive out there," Elsa said firmly.

"Your Majesty, we barely have enough food for our own people; we can't afford to waste it on _barbarians!"_

Kristoff's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Say that again," he spat, starting forward.

"Kristoff," Elsa said sharply, and the ice harvester stopped, though he still glared ferociously at the nobleman. "Thank you," she said evenly, and then turned to the nobleman and said with severity, "Lord Finnmork, these 'barbarians,' as you call them, are human beings. We're in a state of emergency; we are not about to turn_ anyone_ out into the snows, especially not women and children!"

He shrank back, seeing the fire in her eyes. "Yes, your Majesty," he muttered.

"Very good. Now, does anyone know what's happened to them?"

"No, your Majesty, nobody speaks their language," one of the guards responded.

"I do," Kristoff said. Several of the people turned to look at him again, and he flushed red. "I mean, I might. There are different dialects and stuff, and I don't even know if I remember it all."

"Do you think you could speak to them?" Elsa said urgently.

"I could try." He approached the family and said what sounded to Elsa like: "_Gos don leat eret?" _The father of the family, recognizing his own language, quickly began to reply, so fast that Kristoff had to stop him and ask him to slow down. The father nodded and began to speak again, slower this time. After several minutes of back-and-forth, Kristoff nodded, seemed to make some assurance to the man, and then turned back to Elsa.

"They're from the north; they've been traveling for over a week, trying to stay ahead of the storm."

"More than a week? Where are their supplies?"

"He said their sled tipped over out on the trail, probably the same one that leads out to the mountain. They have a daughter; she's alive, but she's trapped under their sled," he said urgently.

Anna's eyes went wide. "Then someone needs to go get her!"

"Not just 'someone'; me," Elsa said grimly, turning to the guard. "Ready my horse."

"Elsa, you can't!" Anna practically begged.

"I'm the only one with a chance of surviving that storm if I get lost out there; it's too big of a risk for anyone else."

"You don't know the way; let me go with you," Kristoff urged.

"No, Kristoff; I need you to stay here with them. They may have more information about the storm, and you're the only person who can understand them."

"Then I'll go," Hans volunteered.

"What? No. Absolutely not."

"Elsa, he's right, you don't know the way," Hans argued. "And more to the point, you need someone to help you ride."

"I am perfectly capable of riding a horse on my own," she said, affronted.

"I have yet to see anyone ride off alone in a blizzard and have it end well," he said bluntly. "And someone has to hold you on the horse. You'll need your hands free to keep the storm at bay; you'll never be able to find your way if you can't see two feet in front of your nose."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. "Fine," she agreed grudgingly. The guard had returned with her horse, and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She moved her hands as if forming a ball out of clay, and then turned them outward, extending them one inch at a time. When they were finally as wide as she could put them, she stepped out into the swirling snows.

Everyone's eyes went wide as the snow seemed to move around her in a spherical pattern, never touching the queen. Hans was the first to recover, stepping into the empty space beyond the door. He lifted Elsa onto the horse, and then took the lantern the other guard held out to him and climbed on after her. Elsa tried to ignore the feeling of his arm bracing her protectively around her waist, holding the reigns in that hand while he lifted the lantern with the other. "We'll be back as soon as we can," Hans told the rest. "Give this family warm food and make sure they're comfortable, do you understand?"

"Yes, your Highness," the guards answered.

Hans gave a sharp nod and then spurred the horse. He and Elsa quickly rode off into the night.

* * *

The gallop pace at which they had started had deteriorated into a slow walk as the fjord horse trudged its way through the snow. Elsa's hands were still up, but they had fallen a few inches, as had the sphere. "Are you doing alright?" Hans asked her.

"Fine," she said, but her voice sounded tired. Inside the little pocket of air it was surprisingly quiet, despite the winds swirling around them a few feet away on every side. "How far are we?"

"Not far now; we're out of the town," Hans said, trying to peer through the snow. Suddenly, the horse stopped, prancing back nervously. "What is it, boy?" The horse whinnied, and Hans got off, urging it forward a little further. The horse stopped again and pulled back, and then Hans saw what was frightening the beast. Into the light of the lantern he was holding came a fallen tree, brought to the ground by the wind and the weight of the snow in its upper branches. And there, underneath the tree-

"Elsa!" Hans called back. "We've found it!" He knelt down quickly and set the lantern on the ground, peering under the sled. A small form was curled up underneath. "Hello? Are you awake?"

For one horrible second, there was nothing, no sound at all. Then, he saw the girl shift, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

_"Áhčči?"_ the girl murmured sleepily.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could answer," Hans muttered. "Don't worry; you'll be back with your parents soon, I promise." He studied the situation. The tree had fallen right across the path, but somehow the sled had tipped over to protect her. He tried to lift it off, but it was too heavy. "Elsa!" he called.

"What?!"

"I need you to use your ice to lift the tree!"

She turned to him and tried to extend a hand to shoot out her ice, but as she moved her hand the sphere of emptiness around them shrank. She quickly put her hand back up again to enlarge it back to its original size. "If I try I'll lose my concentration! The sphere will collapse!"

"Couldn't you make another one?"

"I don't know! If I let go then I might not be able to bring it back!"

Hans closed his eyes, thinking. "Do it," he ordered, opening them again.

Her own blue eyes went wide. "Hans, if we get lost out here you could freeze to death!"

"If we don't help her then she definitely will! Do it, Elsa!"

The Queen grimaced, clearly in debate. Then in one decisive swoop, she pointed her hand in his direction.

As a pillar of ice formed to lift the sled, the sphere disappeared, and the snow swept in around them again, winds howling. Hans reached under the sled and pulled the girl out. She was very young, no more than six at oldest, with dark features and blue woolen clothing. Her dress was stiff with ice; no doubt the child's own warmth had melted the snow, and then as her body temperature dropped it had refrozen again inside the dress, encasing her in a icy shell.

He had to get her warm. For a split second he hesitated, and then unbuttoned his own woolen coat and wrapped it around the girl. He picked her up and brought her over to the Queen, who instantly noticed what he'd done. "Hans, your coat!"

He waved this aside. "I'll be fine; my jacket's warm enough." That was a downright lie; the icy winds cut through the thin material like a jackknife, chilling him to the bone. But Elsa didn't need to know that. "Just try to make another sphere!"

He watched as she cupped her hands. The snow started to move around a space in the center like a ball, but every time it got as big as a foot across, the sphere fizzled and died. She tried again and again, to no avail.

"I can't!" she cried. "I'm trying, but I can't do it!"

Hans swore inwardly and closed his eyes. _Alright Hans, think. What do you have?_ Not a whole lot, if truth be told: a sick child, an ice queen whose powers had gone on the fritz, himself and a horse-

_The horse._ Of course; why hadn't he thought of it before? "How long have you had this horse?" he demanded.

"What?!"

"The horse! How long has he been at the castle?!"

"Hans, I really don't think—!"

"Just answer the question!"

She closed her eyes, thinking back. "I don't know—a few years maybe? But what–"

"Take her," he ordered. Quickly Elsa reached forward, and he handed her the girl, still wrapped in his coat. "Men can wander around for days and never find a trail, but a lost horse always finds its way home," he shouted into the winds, picking up the lantern and climbing up onto the saddle.

"Even in a snowstorm?!" she demanded.

His expression was grim. "I guess we'll find out." He took the reins loosely in his free hand, his arm steadying Elsa and the girl so that they wouldn't fall off. Hoping he was right, he snapped the reins and spurred the horse. _"Hahp!"_

* * *

The royal guards hurried back from their windows as they spotted the lantern light glimmering through the swirling snows, hurrying up the road. "It's the Queen and Prince Hans!" they shouted. "They've returned!"

Several more were present to greet the pair as the horse thundered through the gates. Hans managed to pull the horse to a stop, but the whole trio was nearly tipped off as the frightened stallion reared. The guards managed to calm it down enough to let them off.

"Take him to the stables," Hans ordered. He was covered in snow and soaked to the bone, but the prince hardly seemed to notice. The newly-arrived family hurried over with Kristoff and Anna in tow.

"Here," Elsa said, handing the father the gray bundle in her arms. The man pulled away the thick layers of cloth to reveal his daughter. Eyes filled with tears, he kissed the girl's hair and then said something to Elsa in his own language.

"He's thanking you for saving her life," Kristoff translated.

"Thank Prince Hans; he was the one who gave her his coat," she replied.

Kristoff explained this back. The man looked past her to the redheaded prince and spoke again. Kristoff added, "He says that he's then, uh, 'indebted,' I think, to both of you."

"No thanks necessary; any decent person would have done the same," Hans replied.

Kristoff again repeated this, and the man smiled and nodded. He turned and said something to his wife, and they quickly took the girl off to the side, laying her down by the fire. Kristoff followed them, making sure they had proper provisions for the girl.

Elsa looked over at Hans, her interest piqued. "'No thanks necessary?'" she quoted.

"I didn't want him thinking-" A shudder ran through him suddenly, and he sat down heavily in a nearby chair next to the fire.

"Hans!" Elsa said, startled. "Are you alright?"

"I-" He couldn't finish, and she realized he'd gone a deathly pale and had started to shiver. "I'm f-fine."

"You're _not_ fine," the Queen admonished. "You there!" She flagged down a maid. "Please, bring us a blanket. And something warm to drink."

"Yes, m'lady."

The maid hurried away, leaving Elsa to fret and worry. "You _said_ you were alright without your coat!" she reproved him.

He grimaced and shivered again. "Y-you should know by now, E-Elsa, that I'm not exactly the p-p-poster child for h-honesty."

The maid had returned with the blanket and a mug of piping cider. "Here," Elsa said, handing the cup to him as the maid quickly wrapped him in the blanket. "Drink up."

Despite the fact that the cup was steaming with heat, Hans downed it in just a few gulps, looking a little less frigid and pale when he'd finished. "Th-thank you," he stammered with relief. "That's much better." He made as if to stand.

"Oh no you don't. Sit down," she commanded, tone halfway between a queenly ruler and a nagging wife. "You're staying right here by the fire until you've warmed up again."

"Yes, dear," Hans said with a sarcastic chuckle, but it quickly turned into a cough.

"That's what I thought. Drink some more cider; I'll be back to check on you soon." She walked away, going to speak with the family. Hans watched her, entirely unaware of the distant, contented smile that was spreading across his face. He couldn't say he enjoyed being nagged, but there was something about being nagged by _Elsa_ that was at once very attractive and incredibly endearing. If there was one thing he'd learned about the Arendellian queen, it was that she was fiercely protective of her friends and her people.

"I saw that."

He started and looked over. Anna was watching him, brow furrowed. "Saw what?" he asked, glancing over to where Elsa was still talking with the family. He couldn't help but watch as she inquired as to the their wellbeing, brushing a stray strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear as her cerulean eyes narrowed in concern.

"That! That right there! You're _smiling,"_ Anna said frankly. "Do you… like her or something?"

Hans's mouth opened, and he struggled for something to say. "No! Of course not."

"You hesitated," she asserted.

"Don't be ridiculous," he huffed. "You're imagining things-"

"Oh, stop it. I saw that look in your eyes. So." She sat down in the chair beside him. "You're in love with Elsa, huh?"

He grimaced and let out a sigh through his nose. "…I… I'm somewhat… fond of her."

Her eyes, surprisingly, lit up. "No way, really?"

"You're not angry?" She shook her head. "Why not?" he asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

Anna chewed her lip. "Listen. You're not off the hook, so to speak, but—well, I said I'd give you the chance to prove I can start trusting you. And you have." She gestured around the castle. "You've taken good care of our people. You just risked icy death to save a little girl you don't even know." Hans blushed, proud despite himself. "I'm not saying I'm hugely fond of the idea, but I'm not one to stand in the way of true love." She shrugged. "So. Have you told Elsa?"

"No- And Anna, please, you mustn't say anything," he practically begged. "Elsa can't know."

"Why not?" the princess said, baffled. "I mean, sure, she might not feel the same way–"

"Think about what you're saying!" Hans said emphatically. "Your sister could _never_ forgive me for what I did to her, for what I did to _you_."

"But if I could…"

"Anna, listen to me," he said seriously. "You remember how- how much I hurt you? How terrible that felt?"

"It's not something I'm likely to forget," she said, a tad sharply. He grimaced.

"What I did was… awful. I broke your heart. But the pain that I caused you in that moment—and I know how this sounds, but it's the truth—that pain did not even come _close_ to how badly I hurt your sister. I made her think that she was a monster. I told her that she was the reason you were dead: _you,_ the only person left in the whole world who truly loved her. Can you imagine the agony she must have felt?" He shook his head. "She knew I was going to kill her… and she didn't even _care."_

Anna's face had fallen as she realized the truth of his words. Hans sighed again, his green eyes pained. "Anna, Elsa would never, _could_ never care for me the way I care for her. Please, just… let us part on good terms. For me, that will be more than enough."

Anna hesitated, and then nodded. "Okay. If that's what you think is best for Elsa." She turned to go.

"Anna," Hans said suddenly, and she glanced back. "I… I'm sorry for the way things turned out between you and Kristoff."

Anna's eyes dropped to the ground. "He told you?" she said softly.

"That, and I'm a good guesser."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "Well… thanks."

He nodded. "Good evening, Anna."

"Yeah… goodnight." She left, and he didn't miss the way she hid the heartbreak in her eyes, covering it with her usual cheeriness and putting on a brave face for her people. And quite suddenly, it struck him: Anna was no queen, but she was the princess her people needed—a light that kept burning in dark times. Elsa was the head of the people, but Anna…Anna was their heart.

And for a brief moment, he wondered what kind of a damned fool would give up a woman like that.

* * *

Across the great hall, Elsa had nearly finished her conversation with the family, by aid of Kristoff's translations. Her face was pinched in a frown. "You've been traveling for almost two weeks now? You're sure?"

Kristoff spoke briefly to the man, who nodded. Elsa pursed her lips. "Tell them thank you for me, Kristoff."

_"Giitu,"_ Kristoff said to the man. He nodded again, and Elsa stood. She had a certain look in her eyes, pensive and confused, so when she thanked Kristoff for his help and then went off on her own, he only waited a few minutes before deciding to follow her.

His search took him a good half-hour, as she was in none of her expected places- neither the library, nor the kitchens, nor even her normal room. In the end, he found her in the little room atop the lighthouse.

If Kristoff had to choose a favorite room in the whole castle, it would have to be the lighthouse. On a clear night, one could see all the stars through its windows, which he liked- it made him feel like he was outside. A little indoor staircase led to the lantern room at the top, where the sturdy windows around the majority of the room reflected the light out to sailors at sea. The light had been extinguished as of late, however, as a means to conserve fuel, as no sailor would have been able to see the light through the storm, anyway. Elsa seemed to have created a delicate little desk and chair of ice, upon which was what seemed to be a map of some sort, her fountain pen, and several pieces of scratch paper covered in mathematical equations. Elsa herself was not sitting in the desk, but rather staring out the front-most window, watching the flying snow with furrowed brow.

"Hey." She looked over at the sound of his voice. Kristoff clumped awkwardly into the room. "You look busy."

"Hm. Oh, mm-hm. I've been trying to figure this out…" She bit her lip thoughtfully, looking out to the whirling snow again.

Kristoff nodded. "Wanna tell me why you left so early?"

"Oh. Well, I think you may as well know; it's nothing secret." She picked up the map, frowning. "I didn't think about it until now, but what the family told you seemed strange."

"What do you mean?"

She picked up a map, which had several different calculations and lines drawn on it. "They said they'd been fleeing the blizzard for two weeks now, but that doesn't make any sense—or at least, it shouldn't."

"I don't follow."

"Storms rarely blow in just one direction," she explained. "They twist and move according to land features, bodies of water, heat waves… but this is different." She looked to the snow blowing against the window. "It never changes. Always due North. And the wind-speed's been increasing. About a five percent increase each day, if I'm calculating right."

"How do you know that?" he asked, momentarily impressed.

"I can feel it… and I've been watching the storm for a few days now. I think I've pinpointed its origin."

"You mean you know where it's coming from?" Kristoff said, surprised. "Where?"

"It's the strangest thing," she said, baffled, handing him the map. I've never seen a storm that moves like this. Look."

And he did look. His eyes narrowed in surprise, for on the paper, a straight line was drawn from Arendelle all the way north. At the very top of the map, Elsa had circled a point. Kristoff looked up. "The North Pole?"

"Exactly. And that's why it's so strange. Winds don't usually blow in one direction for this long; I can't make heads or tails out of it."

"Yeah, it's strange," Kristoff agreed. He hesitated, and then said, "…Y'know, I noticed something else sort of strange tonight, too."

"Hm? What's that?" Elsa said, biting her tongue as she went over her mathematics, writing down more figures.

"Just that you seemed pretty, uh, worried, when Hans wasn't feeling so good…"

Her hand stilled on the paper. For a long moment, she was silent, and then said, "What are you saying, Kristoff?"

"I'm saying that I've never seen you fret and fuss over anyone that much except Anna- not until tonight."

"Kristoff, I don't want talk about this," she said shortly, her pen scratching on the paper.

"C'mon, Elsa, I'm not blind. You're falling for him, aren't you?"

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous; of course I'm not," she blustered, trying with all her might not to blush.

"Elsa."

She sighed, and then stood up straight and looked at him. "…Am I that obvious?"

"No," he said simply. "I'm just good at reading people. So what is it?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do you like him?" Kristoff amended.

She grimaced, and then let out a frustrated sigh. "…I don't know," she said, sitting down in the desk chair. "He's… he's brilliant and charming and driven, and… and it's more than that, I don't really understand it, but…" She buried her head in her hands and groaned, "Kristoff, I don't know what to _do."_

"Well that's easy; go talk to him," Kristoff said frankly.

She let out a little laugh that sounded more astonished than amused. "You must be joking."

"Why not?"

"Because Hans most certainly does not reciprocate such feelings for _me,"_ Elsa replied, standing up again and turning towards the window. "He'd probably think I was out of my mind, and I can't say I'd blame him; can you imagine how this would look?"

"But what if you're wrong?" Kristoff pressed, his face lighting up with possibility. "I mean, let's just say, y'know hypothetically, that he felt the same way-"

"Even if that were true, it wouldn't matter; he's leaving tomorrow night. There would be no chance, no _point_ to starting a relationship."

"Yeah, but what if something made him stay?" he demanded. "Elsa, what if _you_ made him stay?"

"And what if I did?!" Elsa cried exasperatedly, whirling around. Kristoff blinked. "What if he _did_ stay, what if he _did_ feel the same way, what if we _did_ have a relationship? What then, Kristoff? _What about Anna?"_

The mountain man had fallen silent, stunned. Elsa sighed. "…She trusts me so much," she said sadly. "She believes in me, Kristoff. If she knew… it would break her heart; she'd never forgive me for it. I won't- no, I _can't _cause her any more pain. I can't hurt her again. You of all people must understand that."

"…Yeah," Kristoff admitted heavily. "Yeah, I know what you mean. The last thing I want is for Anna to get hurt."

"Then please, you can't tell her, or Hans. It's better if he just leaves without either of them ever finding out," Elsa pleaded, looking to Kristoff to be far older and sadder than ever. _"Please,_ Kristoff."

He grimaced, debating inwardly, and then nodded with a sigh. "Okay," he agreed tiredly. "Okay, Elsa, if that's what you think is best."

"Thank you." She sat down in the desk chair again, visibly unhappy. Kristoff, unsure what else to do, headed for the stairway door. At the last moment, he stopped and looked back.

"He's a good man, you know." Elsa glanced up, surprised, and Kristoff looked her straight in the eyes. "I know it seems strange to say, but I really think it's true. Whatever he's done—and I'm not saying it's okay—but whatever's happened, he saved my life, and now he's saved the life of that little girl. So for what it's worth, he's got my trust."

For one long moment, she was silent, and then she said, "I…I don't know about trust…but I do think you might be right. I think he might be a good man."

Kristoff nodded, and Elsa thought he may have even smiled a little. "You wanna go back down?"

She sighed and nodded, setting the map down on the icy desk. "I think I've done about as much mathematics as I can handle for a night."

They walked together down into the main castle. Kristoff was customarily quiet, for which Elsa was grateful; it meant her knew that their discussion was over. When they reached the great hall, the pair separated, and Elsa found herself walking (quite without realizing it) towards where the prince was still sitting by the fire, wrapped in the blanket and sipping another cup of apple cider. He had a pensive expression on his face, staring into the fire as if lost in thought. She bit her lip, and then walked over to him.

Hans looked up as she approached, surprised. "Your Majesty. To what do I owe this pleasure?" he teased her.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Well, I _was_ coming over here to check up on you, but it seems your sense of sarcasm is still in perfect working order." She made as if to leave.

"Now hold on, I was only joking. Is anything the matter?"

"No, everything-" She hesitated, and then said airily, "Everything is fine. I'm making sure _you're_ alright."

"I'm fine," he said dismissively.

"Hans, I'm serious," Elsa said, very seriously indeed. "You could have gotten yourself really hurt."

"But I didn't."

"But you may have!" She calmed herself, wringing her hands. "Please, just… at least next time, be honest with me… I don't like seeing my friends get hurt."

_Friends._ The word seemed to hang in the air, mixing with the scent and crackle of the glowing fire, and Hans felt it resonate somewhere deep inside his chest. _We're… friends._

Then, he smiled warmly. "I'll try to be more careful, Elsa. I promise."

She found that she was smiling back. "Good."

Thousands of miles away, the Snow Queen screamed in fury, her voice so shrill that the ice beneath her feet fractured.


	29. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

_"Please, don't kill me, don't kill me–!"_

_ He screamed as an icicle skewered through his shoulder, blood spattering the ice. Icy blue eyes pinned him as he cowered, sobbing, dignity bleeding out with the red stains onto the frozen waves of the fjord. "Please, I'm sorry, don't—PLEASE!"_

_ More electric pain. Somewhere, dimly, he knew he'd done this before, lived through her revenge a dozen times in some distant other-world—but just then it didn't matter, because here and now he knew she was going to kill him. He groveled like he did with his brothers, like any man does who's seen self-possession melt in the face of raw death. Babbling sobs escaped his cold lips: "Please, please, I'll do anything, I'll do anything you want…"_

_ The blue eyes released him, the butterfly-pins retracting, and he stumbled forwards as blood spattered down and steamed in the cold. His knees hit ice, dizziness overtaking him, and he stared upwards._

_ "Oh, Hans." The Queen's voice was as dead as she was. "If only there were someone out there who loved you."_

_ She touched his heart with her bloody fingers, and ice froze through him. He tipped backwards, and fell into water._

_ The freezing waves crashed in around him, and he surfaced, choking, as cold assaulted his core. He screamed and water filled his lungs, submerging him again. Firelight glittered above as he fought to get back to the air, but his beating limbs were already going numb. Further and further he sank into the darkness, the firelight growing fainter, the silhouette of the lifeboat swallowed by icy blackness…_

_ He hit the bottom of the sea and awoke._

* * *

"Hrruhk!"

The noise of air sucking into his lungs shot him upwards as he clutched at his chest, choking. It took several disoriented seconds before he realized he was not, in fact, drowning in the depths of the North Sea. Panting for breath, he ran a shaky hand through his hair and waited for the swell of panicked nausea to pass.

Icy water, and firelight…that must have been from what the _Aspiration _sank, though he remembered hardly anything of the event. Although…he frowned, trying to recall. Hadn't one of the others dragged him to a lifeboat? Maybe he'd misunderstood, all those years ago; maybe one of the others had dragged him _into_ a lifeboat, after he'd nearly drowned. _That would explain the coma I was in afterwards…_

The torture motif, although more disturbing, was less difficult to understand; he'd had nigh identical hallucinations of being slaughtered by the dead queen any number of times while in prison. Still, it was unnerving. He hadn't dreamed of vengeful-corpse Elsa in a long while.

At last he had the self-consciousness to look around; thankfully, nobody seemed to have noticed his abrupt awakening, as most of the hall's occupants were asleep. Not far off, on a pallet near the wall, he saw the gentle slopes and curves of the queen's shoulders and waist, the white of her night-dress seeming to glow a faint gold in the dim light of the dying fire. Shame flooded his cheeks with color as he realized he was staring, and he quickly looked away. Seeking comfort from her visage felt inappropriate, all considered. Still, the awareness of her living presence reassured him.

He lay down, staring up at the high wooden ceiling, lost in shadow. On the one hand, he was beyond grateful, for the leniency Elsa had shown him. On the other, he felt like a disgusting wretch; he knew he did not deserve the mercy he was receiving, or the second chance he'd bargained for. _Bargained_, not pled. Even his freedom was ill-gotten and a product of his manipulation of the Queen's situation. And of course, it meant he was escaping all real consequences for his actions.

_All consequences._ Well, what was he supposed to do, he argued to himself? He could hardly just let Agnar kill him…

_You could stay, _a quiet voice whispered. _You could stay in Arendelle._

Hans's interior dialogue fell silent. He wanted to lie to himself and come up with a good reason why he couldn't do just that, face whatever justice the Queen and Princess decided to levy on him when the whole business of the fake engagement was over, but…

_There's no good excuse. But I don't know if I could bear that. _He closed his eyes. He didn't mind the idea of legal punishment per se, but staying in Arendelle…here, he was who he was. Here, history could not be escaped. He would have to live with his mistakes, and he knew that no matter how sincere his change of heart was, it wouldn't blot out the people's memory.

_But I could see her…_

Yes, he could see her. He could see her live, rule—marry, produce heirs. With a _worthy_ king. _She doesn't need me hanging on to pine after her,_ he thought to himself, rolling onto his side and shifting the blankets as sleep began to creep back in. _And I…_

Warm firelight washed over his eyelids, and he remembered the way her eyes had looked as she'd scolded him, called him her friend…

_I don't…know if I could live with myself, seeing what I've lost…_

* * *

"Your Majesty! You're needed at the gates!"

It was the morning of December the twenty-first—the coldest and darkest day of the year. Perhaps "morning" was a bit inaccurate; at eight in the A.M., the sun still had not risen, although it was hard to tell either way amidst the swirling opaque matte beyond the windows. Elsa, who had just barely sat down with her meager breakfast of a hot roll and glog, repressed a bone-deep sigh and looked over. The servant stopped short.

"Yes, Kai? What is it?"

"M'lady…" The queen's face seemed an unhealthy ashen gray, and there were rings under her eyes. Even her pale hair seemed lifeless. Elsa saw the expression on his face, set down her plate, and stood.

"Who needs me at the gate?" she repeated firmly, albeit with exhaustion in her tone.

"I…come and see for yourself, m'lady."

There was a commotion gathering quietly at the doors in the entryway down below, and Elsa was bewildered to see a certain ice-master and deliverer at the front of it. "Kristoff," she demanded, approaching the mountain man, "what's going– oh…"

There were people gathered in the entryway. Many people, rather, at least a few dozen, all covered in snow—and reindeer-hide tunics. Elsa blinked owlishly at them, her still-sleepy mind turning the situation surreal. The people peered back at her.

A figure appeared in the hallway at her back, and the man at the front of the group let out a shout: "Sáppá!"

"Dávvet!"

Elsa turned and saw the Sámi man she'd met the night before break free from Kai's leading hand and rush forward. He and the man embraced, laughing in relief, and then broke apart and began to talk animatedly, Sáppá gesturing back in the direction he'd come as his family surrounded him. "What are they saying?" Elsa asked Kristoff. "Where are they from?"

"They're from Sáppa's village, I think." Kristoff turned to a nearby woman and asked her a question; she replied with a nod. "The whole village, actually. The storm's bad up north, Elsa, real bad. It just keeps coming; there's no end to it."

"They came all the way here? In this weather?"

"It wasn't easy."

Elsa turned back to the crowd. Their anxious faces stared at her, searching, she knew, the face of the young Arendellian queen whose next action would set an enduring royal precedent.

"They brought their herd," Kristoff said quietly. "We won't have enough room in the stables, but if you made a roof over the garden…"

"Their herd?" said the queen dizzily.

"It's their livelihood, Elsa."

_I'm so tired…_

There was a sudden gasp from the crowd, and she looked down as something heavy collided with her knees. It was Sáppa's daughter, grinning up at the queen and saying something the queen didn't understand, and despite her exhaustion Elsa smiled. Perhaps the girl remembered her from the night before. "She, uh, she says not to worry because the pretty ice lady's really nice," Kristoff translated, looking halfway between nervous and amused.

"Well, tell her I think she's pretty, too." The girl beamed at her. Elsa took a deep breath, drew herself up at the spine and looked back to the villagers.

"Kristoff, tell them to bring their livestock to the garden. Kai, have the council meet me in the library."

Kristoff let out a breath Elsa hadn't noticed he'd been holding and translated this for the crowd. Gasps and exclamations of relief rippled through. As the villagers began to organize themselves to bring their reindeer in, the queen caught the ice harvester by the shoulder. "And Kristoff? For the love of all that's good, please," she pushed her bangs out of her eyes, "get me a cup of coffee."

* * *

"How many people are there, Sir Bjorgman?"

"Fifty-eight. Nine families, including kids and grandparents."

The council had gathered in the library, crowded around one of the reading tables with Elsa at the long end. Expressions of concern were growing on the faces of her council, and the young queen couldn't think of a way to reassure them.

"Nine families," said Master Folkestad anxiously. "That's going to put a strain on rations."

"Do the stables even have room for that many reindeer?" asked Lady Evjen.

"I've already gotten rid of the snow and put a roof over the garden," Elsa reassured her.

"Where are we going to put all these extra people?" Anna wondered.

"My sentiments exactly," said Lord Finnmork.

"I don't know," Elsa sighed. "But we can't just turn them out in the cold."

"I don't see why not," the lord sniffed. "They're probably used to worse."

Several jaws dropped. "Jakob!" Lady Evjen scolded.

Elsa shot a glance at Kristoff, who was glaring woodenly at the lord, and rose to her feet before the argument could escalate. "We're _not_ turning away helpless families in the face of a natural disaster," she said firmly. "And I cannot speak for certain, Lord Finnmork, but I don't believe they're magically impervious to the cold." She waved a hand, generating a handful of glittering snowflakes, and there were a few nervous chuckles around the table. "We'll find a way to make more room and revisit the ration schedule. It's only sixty extra people; we already have several hundred in the castle already."

"Sixty extra mouths to feed," he grumbled.

"Yes, and some of them _children, _Lord Finnmork. Kristoff, Hans, if you could start moving them into the hall–"

"Of course, your Majesty."

"Thank you. Lady Evjen, Master Folkestad, go down to the kitchens and see what can be done about the rationing. Anna–" Elsa sighed, "Just try to keep everybody calm."

Anna saluted. "You got it, sis."

The queen spared a half-smile. "Alright then. Meeting adjourned."

The other councilmembers filed out. As the others left, Elsa felt a hand take her by the elbow, and she looked over.

It was Kristoff. He still looked angry, but somewhat mollified. "Thank you," he muttered. "If I'd said what I…"

"It's no trouble." She hesitated. "Kristoff…did these people come from north of Arendelle?"

He glanced to the door. "Uh…technically, Elsa, I'm pretty sure they spend some of the winter in the Northern Province."

"Which means they'd technically be Lord Finnmork's subjects." Kristoff didn't answer. "I think it might be best if he continues thinking of them as…foreigners."

"I think you're probably right."

"Why doesn't he know these people are in his territory?" Kristoff shuffled his feet. "Kristoff?"

The mountain man sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, Elsa…your dad did right by us, getting rid of the old laws, but those kind of consequences, ehm, they don't change overnight. Some of these people were alive back when we weren't _allowed_ to own land. And, well…they still don't." He flushed and added hastily: "Listen, it's all tundra up there, nothing grows well enough to sell; it's not like anyone's using it–"

Elsa held up a hand. "I'm not here to interrogate the ways of innocent people seeking emergency shelter, Kristoff. I just wanted to know what I…might want to forget, around Lord Finnmork."

"Right," he said, relieved. "Thanks, Elsa."

"Don't mention it. Literally, do not."

He snorted and was about to leave, when he stopped and looked back. "Hey, uh, listen…" Elsa, who had begun to rifle through paperwork, looked up. "Can I…ask you something? Privately, I mean."

"Of course, Kristoff; we're practically family."

He nodded, biting his tongue, and Elsa tilted her head. "…Does it…did it bother you, I mean, when you learned—I know you gave us your blessing, but did you…"

"It's never bothered me that you're half-Sámi, Kristoff. And I knew from the moment I met you."

"You did?"

"Certainly. You clothing had several specific elements and—well, Kristoff, most ice harvesters don't use reindeer."

"But—if you knew, why–?"

"Because you made Anna happy. And because you're a good person and a smart businessman, and I knew you'd be able to overcome the difficulties of being in the Arendellian aristocracy if it meant being with her. And frankly, Kristoff, because it didn't _matter."_

Kristoff's eyes had found the grain of the table. "…You put a lot of faith in me, Elsa."

"Not unduly, as you've proven." His eyes shot upwards. "You've helped me a lot with this crisis. I owe you my thanks for that."

"I—yeah, sure. No problem." The Queen gave him a smile and was about to return to her work when he said: "Elsa? I mean that. If you or– or Anna, ever need anything, you can count on me. No matter what."

The queen's smile grew confused. "I know."

Kristoff hesitated, nodded awkwardly, and left.

* * *

The wind roaring overhead echoed eerily through the glassy ice roof the queen had constructed over the garden, and his breath frosted in the air as Kristoff made his way over to where the reindeer herders were pitching forkfuls of hay for their livestock. The man Kristoff had met the night before, Sáppa, noticed him and waved him over.

"Sir Bjorgman! There's some people I'd like you to meet." He gestured to the other herdsmen around him. "This is Dávvet, he's my brother-in-law…you've met my wife, Mártá…"

"Morning, ma'am." Mártá gave him a grateful smile.

"This is Soljá…"

"So you're the guy who's marrying the princess," said the young herdswoman, leaning against her reindeer with crossed arms and a quirked eyebrow. "How'd you manage that one?"

"Uh—just good luck, I guess…"

"And this is Risten and Joná." A middle-aged couple nodded at him. "Headwoman and headman of our village. They speak some Arendellian."

"It's an honor." They shook his hand. "So," said the iceman, grabbing a fork and helping with the hay, "You come from the northern march, right? Did you see anyone else on your way south, any other moving villages?"

"Nobody. But then, we couldn't see five feet in front of our sleds," replied Dávvet. "We should have left earlier. It wasn't until the storm hit that we realized Sáppa had been right; wind and snow shouldn't move that way."

"We're worried," added Sáppa with a sigh. "Many of us have friends or family in other villages; Soljá here's fiancé is from a permanent town on the coast."

"Why didn't you go there?"

"What would be the point?" said Risten frankly. "The Sámi villages of the northern march are bad off as it is; we couldn't burden them with us."

"We knew it was a risk coming to Arendelle proper, but we weren't sure if anywhere else would have the resources to take us and would also possibly be friendly to us."

There were shared looks here, and Kristoff understood. There were other wealthy towns in the Northern Province, but whether they'd be willing to share their good fortune was tenuous at best.

"So where's your family from?" Soljá asked.

"Honestly? I have no idea." Kristoff shrugged. "My ma grew up with some highwaymen her mother took up with to make ends meet; she told me once she remembered living in the mountains when she was really young, but I wasn't able to ask her more than that. She died when I was a kid."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Mártá kindly. "What about your father?"

"Arendellian, from right here in the city. Ice harvester, like me. He was a good man; he died around the same time she did. After that one of the forest families took me in."

"So how'd you end up marrying a princess?" asked Soljá again, and Kristoff briefly related the tale of the Great Freeze. "So that guy with the red hair–"

"Yeah. But he's doing his best to turn his life around."

"What did the queen's people think about a half-Sámi man courting the princess?" asked Dávvet. "I can't imagine Finnmork was pleased, at least."

"They, uh, they actually didn't know, for a while." He gave an uncomfortable laugh. "I mean, Anna already knew, but when we got engaged, the Queen's council decided to check out my background and…"

"You didn't tell them?"

His face suddenly burned hot. "I– well, not reall– I just didn't–" They were all staring at him, and his excuses fade into silence.

"You're ashamed of it?" Sáppa asked. The ice harvester opened his mouth and then shut it again, rubbing the back of his neck. The others shared knowing looks. Sáppa walked forward and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, causing Kristoff to look up in surprise. "Let's take a walk, son."

He led him through the garden and into the castle. As soon as they were back inside, the iceman found his voice again. "I had to hide it, alright?" he argued, visibly uncomfortable. "I mean, you try surviving around here–"

"We understand, Mr. Bjorgman. Every man's got to eat."

"I shouldn't have hidden it. But—look, I had a business, I was trying to—I don't know, be a 'contributing member of society,' or whatever…"

"And Arendelle has never been friendly to us…" Kristoff nodded, shame-faced. Sáppa paused, carefully considering his next question, and then repeated: "Are you ashamed of it?"

The ice harvester, again, did not answer. Which, of course, was answer enough. Sáppa nodded.

"You know, what they say about us isn't true." He stopped Kristoff by the shoulder and turned the man to face him. "We're not beggars," he said firmly, "and we're _not_ mentally inferior."

"I-I know that–"

"Do you? I've watched the way you act around the _ádel."_ It took Kristoff a moment to translate this to "nobility." "You bite your tongue. You act like you expect them to know better than you."

"They're nobles, I'm just an ice harvester–"

"And you're embarrassed to speak with us in front of them," Sáppa said knowingly. Kristoff's eyes had dropped, like a scolded child. "Tell me, was your mother a stupid woman?"

"You kidding? She basically ran my dad's ice business; she was–" He saw the smile Sáppa was giving him. "Okay, yeah, I get the point…"

"Get it out of your head that you're too stupid to be here," the man said frankly. "The Queen trusts you. The Princess wants to marry you." Kristoff opened his mouth instinctively to correct him, but Sáppa continued, "You have the ear of the royal house of Arendelle."

"Only because Anna fell in love with me…"

"And I suppose the Queen's infatuated with you, too?" Kristoff didn't have a reply to that, and Sáppa nodded. _"Royal Ice Master and Deliverer, _you told me—and that _before_ you were betrothed to the Princess. You speak for the working people. For the first time, a Sámi man sits on the royal council of Arendelle. That is not a privilege—or a responsibility—I would take lightly."

Kristoff thought back to the great hall. He could see, in his mind's eye, Sáppa's family and neighbors, peering uncertainly at the Arendellians around them. "…I won't."

"Good man." Sáppa patted his shoulder. "I have an offer I would like to make you. Do you have a gákti?"

"I—no, not since I was a kid…"

Sáppa nodded. "Square buttons, for a married man." He plucked at his own. "I understand if you don't feel comfortable with it, but any of us would be proud to loan you one for the wedding."

"…I'll think about it," Kristoff agreed.

The proud look in the man's eyes was almost too much for the iceman to stand.

* * *

"There you are!"

Hans jumped and smacked his head on a hanging cut of salted pork. "Gah! Anna…!" He turned with a scowl, rubbing the growing lump. "Give me a little warning, please!"

"I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing down here?"

"Double-checking Master Folkestad's rations count," the prince grumbled. "I thought you were supposed to be upstairs, soothing tempers?"

"Oh, I was." She flounced angrily into the spacious pantry and leaned against the shelves. The underground room was warm and dark, unlike the rest of the castle, which seemed to be getting draftier by the minute. "Someone's been starting some nasty rumors about us all _starving _to death in the next few days because of the newcomers, and I'll give you three guesses as to who."

"Lord Finnmork?"

"Good guess, but no."

Hans thought. Then his face fell. "Ah. My brothers."

"Got it in two." She huffed angrily. "What's their _problem?_ We don't need more stress in this castle; people are scared enough as it is!"

"They're probably enjoying making life a little less pleasant for me." He picked up a jar and frowned at it, trying to read the label in the dim light. "More to the point, the less trust Arendellians have for their rulers right now, the better it will be for the Isles when Arendelle goes to war."

Anna gawped. "They're making everyone afraid so that our people trust _Elsa_ less?"

"Don't look so surprised."

"But—that's awful! Who would _do _that?!"

He gave her a look. "Anna, if you haven't learned it by now, you really need to realize that people can be absurdly, _comically_ evil."

"Well you don't have to be so smug about it," she huffed.

"I locked you in a _study, _what better lesson do you want?"

She gave him an evil look. Hans sighed and set the jar down, dusting off his hands.

"Look. My brothers, my family, are _bad people._ Until recently, _I _was the soft one."

"And then you jumped the line to 'crazy one.'"

"That would be amusing if it weren't spot-on." He saw her expression and softened. "Don't take it personally. My family are greedy power-hungry sociopaths, we pretty much always have been. It's not that they dislike you or your sister _personally, _they just want to set themselves up for success—or their version of success, at any rate."

"Thanks," she grumbled. "But how can they be so– so–"

"Unreflective about it?"

"Well—yeah."

Hans shrugged. "In their minds, they're 'realists.' They 'see the world for what it is' and aren't 'blinded by sentimentalism.' They're just playing the game of survival of the fittest and it's not their fault if you're not fittest."

"And you don't believe that anymore?" she said, still a bit warily despite everything. He shook his head, writing down another total in his tally-book. "Why not?"

"I saw true love thaw your heart and end a kingdom-wide curse. 'Sentimentalism' _won, _which wasn't supposed to happen. Call it a philosophical reckoning." He paused. "That, and…I remembered what it was like, to be loved by someone. I didn't want to let that person down."

Anna watched him, curious about that, but didn't push it further. "You know…you say you regret it."

"I do. Believe me, I do."

"But you never did apologize to me."

He paused, and then said softly, "Anna…believe me, I _am_ sorry. I wanted to apologize the moment I saw you."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because an apology is usually a request for forgiveness. I was not about to insult you after what I'd done by pretending an apology was suitable recompense. And I…wasn't going to put the moral burden on you of feeling like you _had_ to forgive me."

"Willum did that anyway," she pointed out.

The prince half-chuckled. "It's a holy man's privilege to correct victims and saints. Anyway…I knew what you wanted was to see that I knew what I'd done was wrong. That I wasn't just…getting away with it."

"I mean…you are, though."

He fell silent again for a moment. "…I'm not proud of that. But I don't have another choice." He returned counting jars. "I can't just let Agnar kill me."

"Some people would say you deserve it. I don't," she added hurriedly, "but, y'know, some people." _Like me a year ago…_

"To be executed, maybe. But I don't owe it to you or anyone else to be murdered. Believe me when I say, from experience, that those are two very different things."

"And you're really gonna leave without telling Elsa? What we talked about last night, I mean."

"Not if she asked me at icicle-point," he sighed. "And thank you, for keeping my secret."

"Well, what are ex-fiancées for?" She watched him write down a final tally, sigh again, and jut his chin in a frustrated way. "So. Are we gonna starve?"

"Lady Evjen and Master Folkestad's estimations were correct. So, no, we won't starve yet. But everyone's going to be getting less stew than they'd like."

Anna's face turned grim. "Some of them aren't going to like that. They'll say Elsa's feeding foreigners instead of her own subjects."

"Sir Bjorgman tells me they are her subjects."

"Oh, sure." She gave him a wry smile. "But they don't look like us, so they can't be _real_ Arendellians, right?"

Hans blinked. Then he set down the tally-book on a shelf. "You know?"

"I've seen the way they treat Kristoff. Of course I know." At his continued look of surprise, she stuck her chin out. "I'm not as naïve as when you first met me, you know."

Her words so closely echoed his just a few days prior that he couldn't help but half-smile. "Yes, I'm aware." He hesitated, wondering if he should reveal what Kristoff had told him in confidence. "Listen, Anna…"

But at just that moment, the pantry door opened again as Kai stuck his head in. "Prince Hans? Gerda needs your help in arranging the soup line."

"I'll be right there." He glanced back. "Anna—you should talk to Kristoff."

"Right," she said gloomily.

"I mean it. Talk to him." He gave her a nod and left.

Left alone in the pantry, exhaustion took over the young princess; she sank into a forgotten stool in the corner and seriously considered just staying there. Elsa was terrible at hiding her depression and anxiety; it spilled out of her expression, her posture—quite literally, into the atmosphere. Anna was different. Years of maintaining her own little flame of hope and keeping a positive outlook had allowed her to paste on a convincing veneer of good cheer whenever she needed it. But that didn't mean it wasn't there.

Anna was not a queen. Anna was a princess. She kissed babies. She cut ribbons at the openings of hospitals and orphanages. Elsa was a ruler, the rudder on the ship; Anna was a star, the bright pinprick of light people looked to when they needed to know they were heading the right way.

And it was an _exhausting _responsibility.

After the Great Thaw, the realities of public life had flooded in, and for the first time the young princess got a taste of what Elsa had been put through for all those years. Sorrow, anger, pique and fatigue were private emotions, not public ones, at least not for so public a figure as a princess. It wasn't fair, but it was a royal's life; self-assurance in their leaders gave the people subconscious permission to keep calm themselves, and while Anna wasn't a queen, she was, nonetheless, a royal. When her people needed her, she stepped up to the plate (even if she broke a few along the way). And so, despite the _agonizing _pain of being parted from the man who she knew, despite everything, was the love of her life, right now, her people needed their princess.

So their princess, and not the broken-hearted twice-jilted-fiancée, was what they were going to get.

She gave herself another two minutes of depressed wilting into the stool before standing up, dusting off her dress and straightening her corset. She attempted a brave smile. It felt so natural on her face that Anna herself was almost convinced.

The halls upstairs were filled with people, at least until she got to the floor where the library was. There the hall was empty, but only, she could tell, because the library was full. The angry rumble of an upset populace echoed through the corridor and between her ears like noise from the bottom of a well. Anna pushed open the door and peered inside.

Elsa stood behind her desk, wringing her hands nervously and trying to talk sense to the assembled villagers and nobility. Anna could tell right away that it wasn't working. Half the crowd was plagued with varying expressions of anxiety or nervousness; another quarter was up in arms at the queen's decision. The rest were up in arms at _them. _The debate was growing louder by the minute:

_"We can't afford to help other people when we're starving ourselves!"_

_ "What's the matter with all of you? I say we stop being so selfish!"_

_ "And I say we don't owe them anything!"_

_ "Will we have enough to eat? What will we do if the food runs out?"_

"Everyone, please," Elsa pleaded, "we have enough food, we'll just need to ration more carefully–"

_"This storm could last longer than a week!"_ someone shouted from the back. _"What if it doesn't go away?!"_

_"We have to take care of ourselves first!"_

_ "How can you be so heartless? They have children!"_

Frost was beginning to creep up Elsa's dress. The princess drew a deep breath, straightened her back, and summoned every remaining ounce of hope she possessed.

"Excuse me, please!"

Everyone turned. The door was open fully now, and Anna gave them a bright smile. "I've just gotten back from the pantry," she chirruped as she swept through the library, beaming at her sister while the crowds parted like water. "We'll be just fine, Elsa." The queen let out a sigh of relief as Anna stopped in front of the desk, her skirts swishing. "Prince Hans assures me," she told the townspeople, "that we'll be able to stay on schedule with food, even with the new arrivals."

"But Princess–!"

"Now, I know some of you are worried." She clasped her hands. "But come on, everybody! This is Arendelle. We've survived way worse than this storm!" There were murmurs through the crowd. "Whenever we've gone through hard times, we've always gotten through by _relying _on each other, and working _together. _When my father led us through the war, brave Arendellians volunteered to fight, or worked here at home to support the war effort. When the Great Freeze hit, you relied on each other—your neighbors!—to get through it, _together."_ There were proud expressions in the crowd now, as people straightened their backs and lifted their chins. "Our unity," Anna continued, "and our generosity are our _greatest_ strengths. These people _are_ our neighbors, and they _need_ our help. And I believe," she said firmly, looking to each face in the crowd, "that Arendelle is the kind of place where neighbors help each other and look out for one another. And I believe it because you all have _always_ proven to me that it's true. So don't let me down now, okay?"

The anxious had been reassured; the naysayers, shamed. The generous were nodding in fierce approval. The crowd had simmered down from a potential mob to a functioning town populace again, and Elsa could not have looked more relieved. "Alright then," she agreed, settling the matter by asserting its having been settled. "Lunch should be served soon; I'm sure we'll all feel better on a full stomach."

The prospect of a hot meal cheered everyone immensely, and the crowd headed for the library doors. "Anna," Elsa murmured under her breath.

"Hmm?"

"That speech—you know as well as I do that Arendelle hasn't always been the hero and the friendly neighbor you implied."

Anna turned to look at her, her green eyes solemn. "When times are hard, people need something to believe in, Elsa." She looked back to the exiting crowd. "I'd rather they believe in their ability to be kind."

The queen tried, and failed, to hide her surprise. _Well, look at that. My little sister's becoming a real politician. _Anna smiled gently and nodded to the door. "Go. Eat."

"What about you?"

"I'll be out in a minute."

Elsa searched her face. "Is everything okay?"

For one moment, the princess wavered. She wanted to talk to her sister _so badly, _to just unload all of the stress and pain and _grief_ she was feeling. She missed Kristoff. She missed the idea of a life with him. She missed the family she'd _never even had._

But then she pulled herself together, and her smile turned cheerful again. "I'm fine. Just _really _tired. After all those years alone, it feels like the whole world decided to stuff itself in this castle!"

Elsa sighed. "Don't I know it." She patted her sister's shoulder. "Don't wait too long or all the soup will be gone." Anna reassured her she wouldn't, and the queen swept gracefully out of the library and closed the door behind her.

Anna sat down on the sofa next to the piano. Then she lay down. Then she curled up into a ball, and cried. As she sobbed silently into her arms, one thought stuck out: _so that's how it feels, to shut people out._

* * *

Lunch had been served; the Sámi villagers had been settled in the great hall, and tempers had, for the most part, been cooled. Elsa was back to sitting on her throne, handling complaints and giving orders to the servants. When at last there was a break in the crowd, she leaned her head against the wooden back of the throne and rested her eyes.

"Elsa? Queen Elsa."

A gentle hand was shaking her shoulder, and she jerked awake. Hans withdrew his hand, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Fine…" She looked around. Not much seemed to have changed. "How long was I asleep?"

"Only a minute or two. I don't think many people noticed."

"Oh, dear…" Her face was turning red.

"You need to rest," the prince advised.

"I'm alright–"

"Are you?" There was a pause, and then the queen sighed.

"Just…for a few hours."

He smirked. "That's what I thought."

She stood and stretched. "Come with me."

The prince raised an eyebrow. "Darling, we're not yet married."

Elsa scowled and smacked his shoulder, "That's not what I meant." Hans chuckled and followed her. "People will come looking for me," she yawned, "so if maybe you could…" She sat down on her pallet, "stay here…and take questions?"

"Ah– Elsa, are you su–"

"You said you already felt like their king." She let out a sleepy sigh and lay down. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And wake me up at three…"

Hans waited, but there was nothing else. The Queen was asleep.

_You said you already felt like their king.…_He looked around the hall, at the townspeople, at the refugee families, at the nobles and the servants. Safe, warm, and fed, under his guiding hand.

And to his worry, he felt the stirring of temptation.

"Prince Hans?"

He turned. It was one of the serving maids.

"We're running low on firewood, sir. What does the queen want us to do…?"

_I was as good at it as I'd always known I could be._

"The Queen is taking a rest," said the prince smoothly. "As for the firewood…" He thought. "Prioritize the great hall; if we need to, we can move more people into here." _Though it's crowded already. _"Have Madame Gerda organize a small team to determine which furniture is least necessary and have it dismantled."

"Yes, your Highness."

The maid left. Hans looked to the throne, and then back to the sleeping queen. After a brief hesitation, he sat down, cross-legged, on the floor beside her to wait.

* * *

**A/N: So I wrote this chapter to fill in some holes from the original story. I hope you enjoyed it; please review and tell me what you thought.**

**The fictional history of oppression represented here is a reference to the process of "Norwegianization" which occurred in our own world, one result of which was that Sámi people were not allowed to own or purchase land. Sámi children were also taken from their parents to be educated in far-away boarding schools, and were not allowed to attend school in their own language. Such practices were justified late into the twentieth century by claiming that the people of Sápmi were mentally handicapped or intellectually inferior. Wikipedia has an article on the history of Norwegianization if you would like to learn more.**

**I tried to write this chapter as sensitively as possible with regards to the racism (and internalized racism) a man like Kristoff would be dealing with at this point in history, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. If there was something I missed, I'd appreciate being told politely in a private message.**

_**Pax et bonum!**_


	30. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: If you want to know what song Elsa and Hans were dancing to, I always imagine it to be this one: www. ****youtube watch?v=G _ZQrOPRvAQ**** (eliminate spaces, add dot-com-slash after "youtube"). The song is played on a traditional Norwegian instrument called the hardanger fiddle. You can find a shorter version by the same name, too.**

**Also, the story Hans tells is a Hans Christian Andersen story called "The Snowdrop." You can find a copy here: ****hca. gilead. org. il/snowdrop. html**** (remove spaces)**

* * *

It was the night before the wedding, and the only words Elsa could think to describe every person in the castle, including herself, were "worn thin." The exhausted purplish bruises under her eyes stood out all the more on her pale skin, but they were echoed well enough in the faces of those around her, from the usually bubbly Anna to her weary subjects.

"Mama?" a little girl said as she walked past a family in the Great Hall. "Mama, when are we going to go home?"

"I don't know, dear one," the mother said tiredly. As the girl looked away, disheartened, the woman turned to her husband and they began to speak in low, grim tones.

Elsa gave no indication that she'd heard, but as she walked through the Great Hall, she surveyed the many families around her. The children all looked afraid, their parents haggard and gaunt. As she approached her sister, Kristoff and Hans, all of whom were helping to distribute the last remnant's of that night's stew, she let out a low sigh. "Ms. Underberg, what remains of the palace cellars?" she asked once the last of the patrons were gone.

The cook pursed her lips, a worried look on her face. "We have enough food, m'Lady, but firewood is running short. Prince Hans has given orders to start dismantling unnecessary furniture."

"If this blizzard goes on any longer, we might not be able to recover," Elsa said lowly.

Hans's face was grim. "They know. All of them are talking about if they'll be able to make it through the rest of this winter even if the storm _does_ blow over."

"I wish there was something we could do for them," Elsa said, shaking her head. "Especially the children; they're the most frightened of all."

"The cake," Anna said suddenly.

"What?"

"The cake. Give the children the cake."

The cook's eyes went wide. "Oh, no, your Majesty, we couldn't!"

"That's your wedding cake, Anna," Elsa said, stunned.

The princess smiled, and perhaps her sister was imagining it, but her smile looked rather sad. "It's just a cake, Elsa."

"But what about the adults?" Hans said, frowning in concentration. "There must be some way to lift their spirits, as well."

"What about music? Some dancing?" Anna suggested, the light of inspiration in her eyes. "It's not much of a party without food or anything, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"But where would we get the music?" Elsa questioned.

Kristoff shrugged. "Some of these people are amateur musicians. We could ask them to play; I'm sure they wouldn't mind." When the queen still looked doubtful, he said, "C'mon, Elsa. These people are worn and tired; they need something to take their mind off the situation, just for a little while."

She bit her lip, thinking. "Well… I guess it couldn't do any harm."

Anna gasped, delighted. "Oh, thank you! That's wonderful! I'll go tell everyone!" She hurried off, and Elsa couldn't help but chuckle. Her sister had always possessed the gift of spreading cheer, no matter what the situation, and it was a gift for which the queen was now more than grateful

Soon the great hall was filled with laughter and music. The children had all been given a piece of the wedding cake, which now was gone, and several of the men and women had been happy for the chance to play a little music. People were dancing as if it were midsummer's day, having readily accepted the opportunity to forget their woes for a night, and even Elsa, who was sitting on the side, couldn't help but laugh and clap along in time to the music.

The musicians ended their song to a round of applause and started another one, the fiddles singing. Elsa's head perked up, and Hans (who was sitting beside her), glanced over. "You know this one?"

"Oh, it's an old folk dance; everyone here knows it," she said, smiling idly.

Hans hesitated a moment, and then threw caution to the winds and stood, offering her a hand. "Would you like to dance?"

She looked up, startled. "You know I don't dance."

"Don't, not can't," he reminded her. When she still didn't take his hand, he added, "Come on, Elsa. Have a little fun for once in your life."

She bit her tongue, and then accepted his hand up with a wry smile. She felt her cheeks flush and her heartbeat quicken as his fingers curled around hers, and his other hand came to rest on her waist. "Alright, well, I actually don't know this one," Hans admitted, looking just as embarrassed as she was.

"Oh, it's not hard. Just follow everyone else—and let _me_ lead," she said, unable to keep from grinning. Hans chuckled. "Three steps back." He obeyed, keeping the other groups in the corner of his eye. "Turn to the right. Twirl me three paces forward. Spin… stamp your foot! Lift!" He started at that and forgot to lift her by the waist. Elsa laughed again. "Turn, three to the side…"

He followed her instructions until the melody began to repeat itself, and then said, "That's it?"

"That's it."

"I see," he said, with that smirk that told her he was up to something. "Let me try."

Her eyes widened in surprise as he took the lead. "You're a fast learner."

"Very. Twirl… Spin—and stamp. Lift!" He took her by the waist and spun her in the air, before taking her hand again. Even through his leather gloves Elsa could feel the heat of his palm, and for some reason it made her blush furiously. The dance increased in tempo and pitch until they were whirling around at such a pace that she quite forgot about what she was supposed to be doing and let Hans lead her. Colors and half-images seemed to fly by as she twirled around, and she laughed aloud, exhilarated. When at last the dance came to an end, it startled her, and it was only due to his steadying hands that she didn't trip and fall over.

Elsa took several shallow breaths, her eyes still locked with Hans's, who was grinning like he'd just had the time of his life. She realized that he was still holding her, and quickly they separated. Upon looking around, it dawned on her that everyone was staring at them. Swirls of frost covered the floor where she had stepped, curling like rosemaling on the hardwood.

"Um—yes. Well, thank you, Prince Hans," she said with a smile that felt _much _too real for her liking. "But I think that's quite enough dancing for me tonight."

"As you wish, Queen Elsa," he said with a bow, taking her hand and brushing his lips against the top of her cold knuckles. Elsa's cheeks turned an even deeper hue of scarlet, and as Hans walked away, she glanced around furtively, hoping nobody else had noticed. The crowd has turned from staring to whispering and chuckling, and Elsa realized that as embarrassed as she felt about the matter, to them it only appeared a woman speaking with her husband-to-be. Undoubtedly they were only staring because the Queen was not known for dancing. Elsa made her way back over to the sidelines, tucking behind her ear a strand of blonde hair that had come loose during the dance. Hans respectfully walked a ways away to talk to a townsperson, and Elsa couldn't help but watch him go. When she finally managed to tear her eyes away, she realized Anna was watching at her.

A thick dread filled her stomach. "He's, um, he's a very good dancer," she tried to say nonchalantly.

"Told you so," Anna said with a grin. Elsa felt herself relax a little. Perhaps Anna hadn't noticed how strange her older sister was acting. _Well, naturally she's too excited for tomorrow to be noticing much of anything,_ Elsa reasoned with relief. "Why don't you dance with Kristoff?" she suggested.

The ice harvester, who was standing not too far away to the other side of the queen, looked over at his name. "Oh, uh, no," he said quickly, glancing at Anna. "Have we all really forgotten how bad I am at dancing?"

"But these are country dances; you know them all," Elsa pointed out.

"It's alright, Elsa; I'm pretty tired anyways," Anna said hurriedly. She glanced at Kristoff, and they shared just the briefest of looks before glancing away again.

Elsa caught this, but couldn't for the life of her figure out what to make of it. "Alright," she said slowly.

There was a second's awkward pause, before Anna quickly stood up. "I'm going to go," she said, at the same moment that Kristoff said, "I've got some stuff to do." Both quickly hurried off in opposite directions, leaving the queen to sit there and watch the dancing, absolutely baffled.

* * *

It was much later that night when again the queen saw both her sister and the iceman again. The musicians had once again returned their instruments to their cases, and everyone was settling down for the evening. Kristoff was placing more wood in the hearth of the great fireplace. As Elsa approached, another female figure carrying something large and bulky brushed past her, and the queen realized it was her sister.

Anna put the chair down in front of Kristoff, who nodded his quiet thanks and then picked it up. Elsa watched as he snapped the legs off the piece of furniture like they were toothpicks, piling them into the fire. He kicked the back of the chair free from the seat and lay both pieces in the hearth, as well.

"We're out of firewood then," Elsa said grimly.

Kristoff glanced over and nodded. "But there're enough chairs and desks in this place to keep it going for a while… we're better off here than we are in the kitchens."

The wailing of a child suddenly pierced the air, making every head turn with irritation. The trio was close to the source of the distress, and all three looked over to see that it was Sáppa's infant child, who'd been awoken from his sleep by Kristoff's measures and was now wailing his annoyance for all the world to hear. The father picked the child up from his makeshift cradle of blankets, trying to soothe him, but to no avail.

"Where's the mother?" Elsa asked the other two.

"Went to get some extra blankets," Kristoff said, jerking his head back in the direction of the doors. He winced as the child's wailing increased in volume and pitch.

"The poor thing," Anna said, her lips and brows puckering in pity. The father's shoulders had slumped in exhaustion, and in desperation he was patting the child's back, trying frantically to make the crying stop.

"Perhaps he just needs a woman's arms?" a nearby man suggested. Kristoff quickly translated this, and the man's eyes widened in understanding. He turned to Anna and held the wailing child out to her, saying something in his own language.

"Oh, no," Anna protested, waving her hands. "No, I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?" Elsa teased, glancing over. "You're not scared of a little baby, are you, Anna?"

_Yes. Yes, I absolutely am. I'm scared that I'm going to drop him or hold him the wrong way or get him too hot or too cold or…_ But she couldn't say any of this aloud, Anna knew, so she tried to smile (it ended up more like a grimace) and accepted the child. For about the first half a second, she was completely terrified that any number of the scenarios she'd just imagined would come true.

And then… and then, that second passed. The child's fussing quieted, and Anna found herself staring with wonder at the tiny, precious little thing in her arms.

The infant was so _small, _with a tiny upturned nose and little sleepy eyes. He yawned, and Anna felt her heart melt. "Are you tired, baby?" she whispered. "I bet you are. I bet it's been a real long day for you." He yawned again, seeming in agreement. "Just go back to sleep. Auntie Anna will protect you."

Elsa smiled to herself. _I knew she could do it._ It really was a touching sight; Anna's reddish hair had escaped her braids and glowed golden in the firelight as she smiled at the infant boy. The scene looked almost identical to how Elsa remembered her own mother rocking Anna herself to sleep, when she was a child. Elsa had never noticed just how grown up her baby sister had become, and it was poignant moment, to realize that Anna was now an adult and soon would have children of her own.

The princess lay the now-soothed child back into his blanket-cradle, before kneeling down beside the little girl. "Hello," she said, smiling kindly. "What's your name?"

The girl stared back uncomprehendingly, and Anna frowned. "Oh, right, you can't understand me. Well, I'm Anna." She pointed to herself. "Anna."

"Áile," the girl said shyly, gesturing to herself.

"Hello, Áile!" Anna exclaimed cheerfully. The girl giggled. "Would you like to play?" She picked up a nearby spoon that hadn't been used for the cake, and "walked" it forward as if it were a toy. "Hi! I'm Mr. Spoon!"

Áile giggled again, and then her smile faded. Anna frowned, concerned. "What is it?"

"I'm afraid she doesn't have anything to play _with,_ Anna," Elsa explained from behind her. "They lost most of their possessions when their sled was crushed; we won't be able to recover them until the storm's passed."

"Their sled was completely destroyed?" Elsa nodded. "That's terrible! Oh, Elsa, we have to do something!"

Anna's face was so distressed that Elsa couldn't help but agree instantly. "Certainly, once the storm is passed. But for the moment, we can only do so much, Anna."

"Oh, I know. But sleds are so expensive, Kristoff worked for ages to afford his..."

Suddenly, both royals heard a voice say, "Um, Princess Anna?"

Anna looked over, startled. A little girl with big blue eyes was standing there, holding two cloth-sewn dolls, with yarn for hair and calico dresses. "I, um, I just thought—well, if she doesn't have a dolly…she can have one of mine."

Anna's mouth opened in surprise, but then she smiled. "Of course; I'm sure she'd like that very much."

The little girl walked forward hesitantly, biting her lip. She held out one of the dolls to the other girl, who looked at it in surprise. "It's for you," she said nervously. "To share, I mean, if you want."

Áile stared at her for a long moment, and then slowly reached out her hand towards the doll, as if afraid the other might suddenly pull it away. Instead, quite the opposite happened: the Arendellian girl gently pushed the toy into her hands. Both smiled, and then the former sat down beside the latter. Soon they were giggling and playing as if they hadn't a care in the world. Sáppa let out a sigh of relief and turned to Anna, thanking her with a tone that translated across languages.

"It's no trouble," the princess reassured him. "Sometimes kids get crabby. They've been really patient so far, everything considered..."

The Queen couldn't help but smile. She glanced over at Kristoff, expecting him to translate this. Instead, she was surprised to see that the mountain man's face was pained, his jaw tight. Kristoff turned and quickly left, even as the redheaded princess stood up again and, smiling almsot wistfully at the family, turned to go speak with another pair of townspeople.

* * *

"Those two have been acting strangely all day."

Hans looked over. The pair was sitting together on the stone hearth in front of the fireplace, Elsa frowning as she looked between Anna and Kristoff, who were standing on opposite sides of the great hall and seemed to be determinedly avoiding each other. The prince glanced back at the queen. "You just noticed that today?"

"Yes- why? Is there something going on?"

Her cerulean eyes were piercing, and he found he had to look away. "You mean other than their upcoming marriage?" he asked nonchalantly. "Looks like wedding jitters to me." It wasn't _technically_ a lie; Anna and Kristoff's unusual behavior could possibly be viewed as nervousness.

Thankfully, Elsa bought it. "If there even is a wedding tomorrow," she said with a sigh, glancing to the windows. Outside, the blizzard still howled strong. "We're running low on supplies, and morale."

"To make matters worse, half my brothers are missing—come to think of it, I haven't seen some of them for over a week, maybe longer," Hans said, brow furrowed. "I'm not their biggest fan, certainly, but I hope they're safe inside the castle and not caught outside somewhere."

"The storm hasn't blown over yet; what if you're forced to stay the night?" Elsa pointed out.

"If all else fails, I suppose we tomorrow reveal the whole plan and your people swarm the palace to imprison my brothers," Hans said grimly. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that; knowing Agnar, he could easily have a trick up his sleeve for just such an occasion. It's best you have every minute of surprise you can get to your advantage."

"Agreed." She hesitated, and then said, "I want to thank you for all your help. Without your… assistance… Arendelle would almost certainly be in danger of a long and bloody war."

Hans smirked. "You're thanking me? I'm surprised, your Majesty; you don't seem like one to swallow your pride."

"Stop it; I'm trying to express my gratitude," she said, scowling.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and conceded, "Right, of course, my apologies. I owe you my thanks as well; I doubt very much I would be alive right now without your cooperation."

"Talk about swallowing pride," Elsa said with a chuckle.

"Prince Hans! Prince Hans!" They both looked over as a young brown-haired boy ran up to them.

"Per!" Hans said with a grin. "What is it? Are there any wolves around?" He put a hand to his sword pommel and looked around with faux-suspicion.

Per giggled. "No! But I told some of the others that you're the best story teller in the world, and now they want to hear one!"

"A story? Now?" Hans said, surprised.

"Please? I promise we'll be good and quiet!"

"Well…" He hesitated, and then sighed, but he was smiling. "Fine, inform the others that I'll tell _one_ story. But then you've all got to go to bed, alright?"

"I promise!" the boy said eagerly, and hurried to get the rest of the children. Soon Hans and Elsa had a crowd of twenty or so little ones surrounding them; one of the herdswomen—Kristoff had told Elsa her name was Risten and that she spoke some Arendellian—had come to translate the tale for the Sámi children, who were all looking on eagerly.

Elsa nodded to the side. "I should probably go check on the others," she told the prince. "Keep the children busy?"

"Will do." She smiled and went to talk to several of the adults nearby as Hans began his tale.

"Once upon a time," he began, sitting down in front of the fire, "there was a little flower- a snowdrop. It was winter all around, and the snowdrop remained hidden in her petals and would not open."

The tale he had in mind was a story with which he was incredibly familiar, one which he adapted as he went. "One day, the sun came and knocked on the snowdrop's petals," he continued. "The snowdrop said, 'Come in,' in her own, small voice. But the sunlight was not strong enough to enter. The sunlight promised to stay with the snowdrop until summer, when it would be strong enough to open the flower's petals.

"And so the snowdrop waited. She waited and waited for summer- but it seemed summer would never come. Eventually, she said to herself, 'This takes so long! I must get out; I must stretch myself and unlock the door.' And so she did." His eyes never left the children's, but he could see Elsa listening out of the corner of his vision. "Still, winter covered the whole earth, and the little snowdrop was chilled by the cold. Wind and weather mocked the little flower and shut out the ray of sunlight. They said she could never survive their ice. Still the snowdrop stood, dressed in her beautiful white petals, and waited for summer.

"Eventually, a young girl found the snowdrop," he continued. "She looked at the snowdrop with kind, gentle eyes and saw that the flower was lovely. The girl believed that the flower was unique and special, born of the snow and strong enough to brave the winter. So she pulled the flower out of the frozen snow and brought it home with her.

"The girl sent the flower as a present to a dear friend of hers, and the friend locked the flower away in a box." He glanced away, and Elsa noticed how with the firelight behind him, his green eyes were the only thing she could see clearly. They seemed… regretful, somehow. "The flower believed that this friend, this boy, was a good boy, who cared for the girl. But when again the box was opened, the flower was shocked to see that the boy had changed. He no longer had love in his heart for the girl.

"The boy began to throw away all the beautiful things that the girl had given him. But the flower was saved by fate." He paused slightly, and then continued, "It fell to the floor, where it was rescued by a kind servant maid. The maid put the snowdrop between the pages of a poetry book. There she remained for many ages. When at last the book was opened, the man who read the book said that the flower had found her fitting place, for she was a flower who hoped for summer and bloomed before her time, much like the author of the poems in that book. And the flower understood this, how her uniqueness was what made her… beautiful."

Elsa was still and silent as a statue, her mouth open in a little 'oh.' Hans didn't dare glance at her, but instead said, "Alright, children, that's the end of the story. To bed now, all of you."

They begged and pleaded with him for another one, but the prince held firm and soon enough they all stood up and went back to their parents. Elsa was still watching when she heard a voice say from behind her, "Elsa? You okay?"

"What?" She turned and saw Anna standing there, looking at her in a confused manner. "Oh, um, yes. I'm fine. I'm just…" She desperately cast around for some way to escape the situation. "I'm just about to go decorate the church, that's all."

"Oh, really? Well… thanks," Anna said, with a smile that seemed somehow fake. Elsa began to panic that she was catching on, and quickly gave her sister a just-as-fake smile, before hurrying off in the direction of the church courtyard. As she did, she bumped into a man headed in the other direction.

"Oh, sorry- Lief, wasn't it?" she said, noticing he was one of Hans's brothers.

"Y-yes, your Majesty," he stammered, not meeting her eyes. At any other time, Elsa would've thought this strange, but her mind was too many other places at once to notice. The two quickly passed each other by, and Leif continued on his way.

The second youngest of the southern princes found his king in the corridor outside the Great Hall. "M-my liege," he said, bowing lowly. Agnar raised an eyebrow. "I-I have overheard something… something which may be of interest to you."

* * *

The blizzard roared around his ears as strode out onto the bridge. The moment he set foot on the other side, he let out a wordless roar into the winds, his voice ripped instantly by the winds. Nevertheless, after a moment or two, a feminine figure began to make its way towards him. The snow dodged away from her, curling around until the woman stood in front of him.

The Snow Queen's face was impassive. "I trust you have finally located the last shard?"

His face was hard. "You are mistaken," he said curtly.

Her eyes seemed to crackle with icy blue malice. "I am not a patient woman, King Agnar," she hissed. "If you have wasted my time-"

"We have been fooled," he snapped.

Her eyebrows drew narrow. "What?"

"The Queen and Hans. They've been working together," Agnar ground out, teeth gritted. "Tomorrow's wedding is all a sham. He intends to leave tonight if the blizzard lets up, not that it will."

Her eyes were cold, calculating. "…Perhaps."

"What?" he demanded, baffled.

"We are running out of time," the Snow Queen said, pacing back and forth among the howling winds. "The last shard _must_ be found soon. An explosive encounter between Queen Elsa and your brother would be the most effective. If they've been working together, then it must mean that the Queen trusts him."

"I fail to see how this concerns ending the blizzard," Agnar pointed out.

"If Hans leaves tonight, I can… encourage… his powers to come to light," she replied cryptically. "He'll run back to the Queen for help, but he'll be prevented from seeing his _lovely_ bride until they meet at the altar. By that point she'll already feel betrayed enough, but when his abilities are revealed, she won't hesitate to strike. Who knows? She may even kill him for us- or he might kill her." Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Either way, their fury will undoubtedly allow us to find the last hidden shard, not to mention the one left in the body of whoever dies. After that, we can deal with the fifth easily."

"Can you really clear up a storm so quickly?" Agnar said doubtfully.

The Snow Queen raised an eyebrow and lifted her hand, snapping her fingers. Almost instantly, the winds stilled, and clouds seemed to roll back and disappear into thin air, revealing a cold, sparkling sky studded with stars.

Agnar looked around, mildly impressed. "Very well then. I shall leave it to you." He started back up the bridge to the castle. "But if my brother is not at the altar tomorrow morning with his hands lit up like a Yule log, I will know who is to blame."

"Do not doubt me, King Agnar of the Southern Isles. Your brother will return to Arendelle by dawn, mark my words." And with that, she swept her white cloak around herself, climbed into her ice sleigh, and rode off into the night. Agnar watched her go, and then crossed the bridge back into the castle.


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

"Do you hear that?"

Gerda glanced over at her husband. "Hear what?"

"Exactly," the head footman said, looking around in wonder. "It's dead quiet."

"He's right," Hans said from nearby, cocking his head to the side and frowning. "There's no wind." The prince hurried over to the nearest window and looked out. Up above him there glinted hundreds of silver stars. "The storm is gone," he said, turning around.

"We should go tell everyone," Gerda said quickly, making as if to move towards the sleeping villagers.

"No," Hans said quickly, catching her by the shoulder. "Let them sleep; they can all return home tomorrow."

"After the wedding, Sir?"

"I-" The question had caught him off guard. "Yes. After the wedding." He let go of her shoulder and patted it. "I'll go tell Anna and Kristoff- and the Queen as well. You two rest."

"Thank you, Prince Hans," Kai said with a smile. Hans felt his stomach twist guiltily; once again, he was about to betray all these people, even though it was now for the right reasons.

In the end, it was not Anna and Kristoff he found first, but Bishop Willum instead. The older man looked exhausted, but he was still checking on the many families still in the Great Hall. He looked over as Hans approached, surprised. "Prince Hans. Is there something I can help you with?"

"The storm's blown over," Hans said shortly.

The bishop's gray eyes widened slightly in understanding. "You're leaving."

"I am. I'm glad I caught you; I wanted to thank you before I went."

"Thank me?" Willum said, surprised. "Thank me for what?"

Hans shrugged slightly. "You were the first one who gave me a chance."

Willum smiled a little at that. "Just doing my job, my son." He glanced towards the windows. "You should leave shortly, in case the storm starts up again."

"I know; I'll be on my way soon."

"Well then, I wish you best of luck. And remember, you will always be welcome in a house of God."

"Thank you. Do you know where I can find the princess and Sir Kristoff?"

Willum considered this. "Check by the fireplace; last I saw, the princess was bringing more firewood."

He thanked the bishop again, and then hurried over in the indicated direction. He found the iceman and the princess exactly where he'd expected, standing before the fire, Anna with another chair in hand. Kristoff was the first to see him and nodded.

"Yeah, I figured you'd noticed," the mountain man said. "I guess this means you're heading out."

"That's the plan."

"You're leaving?" Anna said, surprised. "Now?"

Hans nodded. "But I can't go until I make a few confessions," he said, getting up his nerve. "One to Elsa… and one to you."

Anna's green eyes went wide as she realized what he meant. "Hans, you don't have to-"

"No, Anna, I do," he said firmly. "I know you've forgiven me, but you still have a right to the truth."

The princess bit her lip and hesitated, but nodded for him to continue.

"I broke your heart," he said honestly. "I played with your emotions to get what I wanted… I treated you like an object, not a person. A means to an end. That was… inexcusable. But I want you to know that despite what I told you in that study, I didn't come to Arendelle with the deaths of you or your sister in mind."

"You seemed… so sure of yourself," Anna said in a small voice.

"Yes, I suppose I did," he said with a sigh. "Anna, that was the moment when I told myself to stop hesitating, to do what had to be done to ensure the success of my plan. In essence, you forced my hand by needing an act of true love that I didn't have to give you. My bravado was as much an effort to convince myself as it was to convince you."

"You could've faked it," Anna pointed out. "You could've pretended like you didn't understand why the kiss wasn't working. Or… told me truth in a less- Kristoff, what's the word?"

"Incriminating?"

"Yeah, that. 'Incriminating' way. So… why didn't you?"

The prince had to force himself to look her in the eyes. "In truth? I was angry with you. I felt you were taking away what was rightfully mine, what I'd work so hard for. And despite everything, you still had such a faith in Elsa, such love for her. You truly believed that she hadn't _meant_ to hurt you; I could see it in your eyes. I thought you were some naïve fool who couldn't understand that true love didn't exist. I was angry with you for still retaining that innocent trust in one's family that I'd never been allowed the luxury of having."

Anna's gaze had dropped. "I see," she said softly.

"I didn't believe that siblings could have any real love each other," Hans surmised. "And, Anna?"

"Yeah?" she said, looking up.

"I want to thank you," he finished sincerely, "for proving me wrong."

She smiled at that, a real, honest smile that assured him things were, finally, alright between them, despite everything he'd just said. "Yeah, of course," she agreed. "And, um, Hans, I- I want to apologize, too."

"Apologize? For what?"

"I wouldn't have been so- so easy to fool if I hadn't _wanted_ to be fooled," Anna admitted sheepishly. "I mean, didn't know the first thing about you and I was still willing to marry you. I didn't even know your last name, for crying out loud!" Hans chuckled a little at that, and Anna smiled ruefully. "I wanted you to be my prince charming and come sweep me off my feet, like you were some character in a storybook and not a real person. Even if you hadn't done all that—_horrible_ stuff, I still would've been holding you to some crazy standard just to make me happy. And that- that's using someone too." She bit her lip. "I'd much rather be…friends."

Hans smiled. "I agree."

The princess gave him a quick hug, and then pulled back. "Well, um…you stay safe, okay?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Kristoff said seriously. "If the seas start getting rough, come in to shore, got it?"

"Of course. Do you know where Elsa is?"

"I think she said she was going to the church," Anna offered.

"Thank you, both of you," he said honestly. "I won't forget your kindness, I swear it."

"Goodbye, Hans," Anna said. Kristoff gave a short nod behind her.

"Goodbye, and good luck," Hans answered, turning to go.

Just before he was out of hearing range, Anna said suddenly, "Hans?" He looked back. "If you ever need anything," she said stoutly, "you come to Arendelle, okay?"

He smiled at that, and nodded, just once. And then, he turned his back again, and left.

* * *

The church was quiet when he entered, quiet and dark. Only the two altar candles were lit, and the small red sanctuary candle near the front. It was so still that he almost didn't see Elsa, who was standing just inside the entrance. She looked over silently as he closed the door behind him. "Anna said I'd find you here," Hans said after a moment, breaking the silence. Elsa nodded wordlessly, looking around the chapel. "What are you doing in here?"

"Thinking," she said softly. After a moment, she added, "I'm also decorating it for tomorrow."

"Ah." He glanced at her, a smile playing along the corners of his mouth. "Care to show me what you had in mind?"

She chuckled and smiled in return. "Would you like to see that?" she asked, glancing over at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Very much, yes."

Elsa's smile grew. She walked out into the center of the church, eyes closed and nodding her head slightly, as if to a melody he couldn't hear.

Slowly, she raised her hands. As she did, a blue-green, flickering glow, reminiscent of the Northern Lights, seemed to pulse out from her feet along the floor. She gestured with her hands, and ice began to grow along the wooden wall-pillars of the church, along the pews, curving across the ceiling in crystalized blue arches. It curled up into the choir balcony and around the candles at the altar.

She lifted her arms even higher, and from all directions snow swirled in, wrapping around her skirts, her arms, up to her torso. With a final flourish, the snow spilled down in cascades from about her head.

Elsa turned to face him, smiling widely. Hans could do nothing but stare. The snow had created a wedding dress, similar in form to her coronation dress but with a longer skirt and train. The Arendellian crocus rested in crystalized ice across the bodice, and the snowflakes had knit together to form a lace cathedral veil, trailing from her head down to around her feet.

"Wow," he managed finally. "Elsa, you look…" He struggled for a word. "Beautiful," he settled on finally, unable to find a more suitable term on such short notice.

She laughed and ducked her head. "Thank you." She looked around the church proudly. "I never realized how beautiful my powers could be until I used them for others. My ice palace… I made that for me. But this—this is for _everyone."_

He could see it reflected in her sky-blue eyes, how happy she was to give back, to do something wonderful for her people, instead of just keeping locked inside herself. How much she lived for _others—_for Anna and Kristoff, for her subjects, for everyone who relied on her and depended on her. Everything she did was for someone else.

_She is a remarkable queen,_ he thought, and in that moment, he realized what he had to do.

"The blizzard's died down," he informed her.

"I know," she said, and somehow, he almost thought she looked sad. "…I suppose that means you're leaving, doesn't it?"

"Very soon, yes." He took a deep breath. "But, before I go… I want you to know the truth about why I did what I did that day."

"I already know," Elsa said, baffled. "You wanted the throne-"

"No," he cut her off. "That was why I was willing to lie to Anna. I want you to know why I was willing to kill you."

Elsa had fallen silent, knowing that what she was about to hear was gravely serious. Hans seemed to struggle for a moment, and then said, "What I told you in the prisons was true. I really was intending on convincing your court to let you go; I thought perhaps, if your sister never returned, I could turn my attentions back to you . You know all this. But then Anna came back from the north mountain…and said you'd struck her heart." Elsa looked away at this, wringing her hands. "It would have been easy enough to just let you run away again after you'd escaped; I thought Anna was already dead, you never would have come back to Arendelle, your people were already indebted to me, but…" The words seemed to stick in his throat, ashamed, and he had to force them out. "But I was—so angry, so furious with you–"

"With me?" Elsa interrupted, baffled. "Why?"

"When Anna returned and you said you couldn't end the winter, it forced my hand and put you in the way. You have to understand, I'd come so far, I'd worked so hard and waited for so long… And you, you had everything I'd ever wanted: a crown, a purpose, a kingdom yours from birth… the whole world had been lain at your feet, and you didn't even seem to know it. I hated you most for having Anna, when I had _no one_. Because, even after everything, all the pain you'd put her through… she still loved you_._" He swallowed. "When we were- were out there, on the fjord, I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to feel the pain of having lost your sister, of realizing that the person you'd shut out your whole life, that person you'd taken for granted, that person who'd always knocked on your door, day after day, year after year—that she was really gone, and that you'd done it to her."

The words hit Elsa like crossbow bolts, but she was smart enough to realize what he couldn't say. "To you, I was your brothers," she said, voice soft. Hans nodded, and finally his gaze dropped to the ground.

"I figured once you were out of the way, I could take the rule for myself," he continued, shame-faced. "I knew I would be good at it, I had the ability to be a great king, or so I thought—and I figured, if I had the respect and admiration of a whole country full of people, I wouldn't…" He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to be this completely honest with anyone, including himself. "I wouldn't… care… about the twelve back home of whom I didn't."

Elsa was stunned speechless. Before she could come up with the right words, Hans said quickly, "I understand that this excuses nothing, and I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted you to know why I did what I did…so you won't have to go the rest of your life wondering."

He was telling the truth, of that she was certain. "Thank you," she said softly. "For telling me this."

He managed to smile a little, a painful smile but a smile nonetheless. "It's only your due, your Majesty."

The church was dead silent. Elsa glanced to the windows, which she'd left uncovered. "I can't believe it's just suddenly gone," she murmured.

"I know. Hopefully it won't come back."

"But what if it does? Will you be able to sail in that? What if-"

He chuckled despite himself, cutting her off. "Elsa, I'll be _fine._ I'm sailing next to the coastline anyway; if I see any sign of trouble, I'll bring the boat in to shore and wait it out."

"Oh. Well… yes, I suppose that makes sense." She was closer to him now. When had that happened? Had she moved? Or… had he?

"Will you be able to handle things here on your own?" he inquired, wanting to make sure she'd be able to deal with Agnar.

"I'll be alright," she said, though she didn't sound too sure. Closer still. He realized they'd both been moving, almost in turn.

Her eyes were so blue. He realized he could reach out and touch her face, her hair, kiss her–

_Don't._ The voice in his mind was stern. _Don't do that to her. You want to part ways as friends, remember? Leave now, before you do something you'll regret._

_Be selfless, like she is selfless._

He cleared his throat and stepped away. "I should go," he said. He turned to leave the church.

"Hans?" Elsa said suddenly, and she turned back. Her expression was indecipherable, except for the fact that it was, at least, genuinely friendly. "…Best of luck."

He smiled and nodded. "You as well, Elsa." And before he had the chance to lose his nerve, he turned away again, and left.

Elsa watched the door close, and then sighed, walking to the stairs to the choir loft. She pressed her back to the wood grain of one of the pillars and looked down over the church, this chapel where she'd received her crown and scepter, and been handed the duty of a kingdom. "Enough, Elsa," she groaned to herself, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. "He's gone. He's gone, and that's good." She lowered her hands with a sigh. "You have-"

"-a duty," Hans sighed, heading for the docks. "A duty to her, a duty-"

"-to Arendelle," she said firmly, but there was a deep ache in her chest that made the words feel hollow.

Out by the fjord, Hans climbed aboard the boat and hauled up the anchor, unfurling the sails. The boat slowly began to drift away from the docks, and then faster, as the wind caught the sails, buffeting them out like small white clouds. Within seconds, the dock was too far away to jump to. Hans sighed. "**If I just had one more chance-**

**But then, Heaven knows,**

**I'd use it as poorly as**

**The ones that I've lost.**

"_If I could change the past-_

_But that couldn't be,"_ Elsa said, walking out into the courtyard between the chapel and palace.

"_My duty is my own;_

_It belongs to no one but me."_

"_**And if I can make you one promise-**_

_**Well, I need only one.**_

_**I won't cause any more pain**_

_**Than I've already done."**_

"**And I've only got one life,"** Hans said, turning his vision out towards the open sea.

"_Only one life,"_ Elsa murmured, climbing the stairs to the lighthouse room.

"_**And though I've lived it wrong,**_

_**I see now that I am**_

_**Better off alone."**_

"**I've only got one life."** He glanced back—just for a moment—to the castle. His eyes found the lighthouse.

"_Only one life."_ She opened the window and leaned out, looking to the sea.

"_**And though I've lived it all wrong,"**_ they murmured in unison. Elsa sighed.

"_**For your sake, I know I'm**_

_**Better off alone."**_

And with that, each turned away. Hans adjusted the rudder. Elsa closed the window and opened the book of maps and mathematics.

And neither looked back again.

* * *

The Snow Queen watched from her perch atop one of the great stony cliffs as the tiny ship set out to sea. Her lips curled into a frozen smile.

Then, that smile turned to a sneer as she saw the _aurora borealis _begin to dance over the water. Green and rose. Springtime. Life.

_"Julia!"_

Her white fists clenched unconsciously. She stood, striding back to her icy sledge. Old memories. Worthless. Besides, she had work to do. She climbed in and snapped the reigns. _"Hahp!"_

The crystalline horses started, whinnied, and then took off into the sky, glinting coldly in the moonlight like a falling star. Behind her, clouds began to trail across the sky, covering the otherworldly glow of the northern lights.

* * *

The sea along the coast hadn't frozen over yet, at least not completely. There was enough space between the floating chunks of ice for Hans to navigate the ship through out into the open ocean. The miniature icebergs bumped up against the side of the ship without doing it any damage, making them the only distinction in the not-quite silence of the sea, the monotonous breaking of the small waves against the hull and the creaking of the ship as it rocked gently from side to side.

Hans could see his breath misting in the air in front of him, white against the night sky. The ship was lit dimly by the pale light of the moon and a lantern he'd lit back near the cabin doors… and, moving silently in the sky like many-colored ghosts, the rose and spring-green Northern Lights. "Well, would you look at that," he said softly, patting the wood of the ship like an old friend. "The sky's awake."

For a moment or two, he watched the shifting bands of light, a distant, if perhaps slightly sad smile on his face. He wondered if Elsa had ever watched them like he had as a child.

_Stop thinking about her. You'll only make it worse for yourself._

He glanced down and away, just for a moment, and when he looked back up again, his contented expression disappeared, to be replaced by a frown. "What the…"

Across the northern lights, great streaks of clouds were moving at an alarming rate. The winds were picking up. Hans began to turn the boat in to shore. "Might be nothing," he muttered to himself. "But better safe than sorry."

Even as he said it, he noticed little flakes of snow drifting down. The ship's rocking had ceased to be gentle and was quickly becoming dangerous. Hans began to debate the merits of going back in to shore; how the storm had come up so fast, he had no idea, but if the waves got too rough they could dash the ship against the rocks in shallow waters. Still, he held his course inland.

The water was choppier now, and the winds were blowing faster, stronger. A violent gust knocked the lantern against the cabin door, breaking the glass and putting out the flame. Hans glanced to the shore, then to the sails, and then back to the shore again. In the distance, he could see the waves breaking white against the rocks, foaming on the black water like a witch's cauldron. He let out a sharp breath. "Alright. New plan."

Quickly, he began to put the boat into a heave-to: a technique using the sails to balance the boat out on the waves and allow it to tack against the wind. Hans had always preferred it to letting the boat lie ahull, but then again he'd never been in a storm that had blown up as quickly or as strongly as this. He quickly fetched the spare coil of rope and lashed the wheel so the rudder wouldn't be turned every which way, and then went to adjust the mainsail.

That was his fatal mistake. The winds by this point were screaming—_Screaming! How could they have picked up so fast?!—_and the boat was pitching to and fro like it was about to capsize. Hans knew he had to get the boat hove-to soon or he wouldn't be able to get safely down into the cabin. Unfortunately, no sooner did he try to adjust the mainsail than the rigging rope was ripped from his hands, moving so fast that it nearly yanked his shoulder out of its socket and tore straight through his leather gloves, shredding the palms. Hans hissed in pain, rubbing at his shoulder and pulling the now-useless gloves off, before he noticed the rope snapping in the wind, far above his head. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. Any number of colorful Danish curses flew through his mind, but none quite seemed to capture the magnitude of just how bad the situation had suddenly become.

With the mainsail compromised, the only thing he could do was lay the boat ahull, or the winds would catch the other sails and capsize the ship. Hans went to untie the rigging ropes before he realized there wasn't enough time. Unsheathing his sword, he cut through the jib-sail rope and the rest, and then headed towards the cabin, intending to hide out bellow-decks until the storm blew over.

The ship suddenly lurched forward, and the prince was thrown off his balance. He slammed violently into the wheel, sword skittering across the deck. He just barely managed to grab on to the wheel before the ship tilted backwards again, and watched out of the corner of his eye as his sword went sliding past.

The waves tossed the ship like a child's plaything in a bathtub. Gritting his teeth, Hans looped his hands through the rope around the wheel and pulled it tight, holding on to the wheel's pegs for dear life. Better broken wrists than tossed overboard. Besides, if the ship went down, in these waves he'd drown before he could swim to shore, anyway.

He let out a sharp cry as the ship pitched back at such an angle that his feet lifted off the ground. The boat seemed like it was going to tip over backwards. Hans squeezed his eyes tight. This was it. This was the end, the most pathetic end he could've thought of. No one would ever even know he was dead; he should've just stayed in Arendelle. Arendelle… _Elsa, I'm sorry…_

And then… and then, he realized that somehow, he was still hanging from his hands off the wheel. The ship wasn't moving. The winds were still roaring, but the entire boat was immobile. _What in the-_

He noticed, suddenly, that a woman's figure was standing on the ship's prow, perfectly balanced. The snow howled around her, but she didn't seem chilled. A cape blew out behind her.

"E-Elsa?!" Hans called out, stunned.

The woman raised a hand. An icicle shot forward and sliced through the ropes. Hans tumbled back down the deck and crashed into the cabin walls. His head smacked the wood and the world flashed black and red for a moment.

Stars dancing in his vision, the prince watched as the woman leapt nimbly from the prow to the mainsail's mast, snapping her fingers soundlessly. The winds died instantly, the snow sprinkling down. Blinking to get the flakes and twinkling lights out of his eyes, he saw that the woman above him was most certainly not Elsa. "Wh-who…?"

"Don't you remember me, Prince Hans?" the sorceress (for what else could she be?) said coldly.

He had no idea what to say. The woman resembled Elsa in features and dress, but there was something about her so very different from the Arendellian Queen. She was beautiful, to be sure, but she lacked Elsa's warmth and compassion. An old proverb, a favorite of his mother's, flashed through his head. _"Remember, Hans,"_ she'd say, _"'Fagerhed uden Tugt, Rose uden Hugt:' Beauty without virtue is a rose without scent."_

"Such a shame," the sorceress said disinterestedly. "I was hoping for some begging and pleading before I killed you."

Hans's eyes went wide. He had no idea who this woman was, but apparently she seemed to know him—and had no qualms about ending his life. As if to prove that point, several large shards of ice hit the wood above him like arrows from a crossbow. He ducked and looked around desperately, trying to find a way out. He could go around the cabin to the back of the ship- but no, the boat was tilted too sharply for that unless he wanted to break his neck, a sixty-five degree angle at a guess-

He dodged several more icy projectiles and decided that this wasn't the time to be doing geometry. He spotted his sword on the other edge of the cabin wall and started to crawl towards it.

"Oh no you don't!" the sorceress cackled gleefully, and three lethally pointed icicles thudded into the cabin door in front of him. The door was ripped from its hinges by the force and thudded against the opposite cabin wall, opening a cavern between himself and the weapon. Hans scrambled for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but all he found was some money and a spare button in his pockets.

As a boy, Hans had once gone hunting with his father and older brothers in the marshy flatlands near their summer home. He'd wandered a little farther away from the group and had come across a family of ducks near a small pond. It had seemed like an eternity that he sat there silently, watching the ducks waddle around. Eventually, they'd settled down and sat in the wet grass in front of him.

It was at that moment when he'd heard whooping shouts from his older brothers, and the family hounds had dashed forward.

Now, staring up at the sorceress's cruelly grinning face, trapped by a bone-breaking drop on either side and unable to even reach his sword, he realized something important: _I'm the duck._

The sorceress laughed, and Hans felt terror strike his heart. A blue light crackled around her fingers. As the icicles flew at him, he closed his eyes and threw his hands up in a feeble effort of protection.

He heard a sharp hissing noise as behind his eyelids there blazed a bright light, and a sensation of heat bloomed around his hands. Hans didn't care until he realized that he hadn't been impaled, and then he opened his eyes.

His mouth fell open.

Flames flickered around his fingers and then died down. Hans turned his shaking hands towards him and stared at the pale, calloused flesh. Even as he watched, the little tendrils of fire again sprung up from his palms. The prince looked up at the sorceress, shocked. The woman was watching him with scrutiny.

It took him approximately two seconds to adapt to the situation and come up with a plan. The sails were ripped rom the storm, but they hadn't been hit by the waves, only frozen snow, which meant they were still dry. He held out his palm the way he'd seen Elsa do it, fingers tensed, and willed the heat into existence.

The jet of flames hit the bottom of the mainsail with a roar, not even coming close to touching the sorceress. She laughed and sidestepped it easily, but her laughter died when she saw the flames begin to quickly lick their way up the fabric.

Her surprise was all the distraction Hans needed. Quick as he could, he scrambled to his feet, jumped the gap created by the door, swept up his sword and leapt the distance between the edge of the cabin wall and the deck railing, sheathing the blade as he did. He landed on his feet on the frozen-over ocean below, rolled forward to negate the shock, and took off running. Flames sputtered out beneath his boots, the heat cracking the ice with sharp _pops!,_ but he didn't dare stop.

The Snow Queen watched him run towards the shore, dodging around the frozen waves. "Run, little prince," she said, highly satisfied with herself. "You wouldn't want to leave your lovely bride waiting, would you?"

She glanced down as she felt heat against her foot, and rolled her eyes, irritated, as she doused the burning sail.

* * *

Hans had been running for what felt like at least twenty minutes, and he knew that he couldn't take another step at that pace or he'd drop. He stumbled to a halt and leaned against a tree, catching his breath and looking around for the sorceress. When it was clear he was alone, he looked down at his hands, sighing.

The flames still licked his palms and fingers, charring the edge of his coat sleeve. "What in the world did she do to me?" he muttered aloud. The only thing he could conclude was that his… fiery… new abilities were somewhat similar to Elsa's ice powers. But she said she'd been born with those, whereas he'd been…what? Cursed?

One thing was for certain; he had to get back to Arendelle and speak with Elsa before _this_ got out of control. He didn't want it to end up like the Queen's little episode a year and a half ago. But he'd never make it at this rate; the sky was getting lighter, he'd noticed, like twilight edging on towards dawn. His eyes found the bright pair of stars that he knew always pointed north-east.* If he followed the roads in their direction, he'd end up in the Arendellian capital city… but how soon?

He looked around. He was on a little road in the middle of nowhere, but in the distance he could see a farmhouse. Hurrying up to it as fast as his tired legs could carry him, he knocked on the front door and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a tired-looking farmer. Upon seeing Hans, he raised an eyebrow. "Who the devil are you?" he grunted.

"I—Andersen. Kristoff Andersen," he lied, using the first names that came to mind. "I need a horse, a stallion if you have one, but a mare will do."

The farmer regarded him suspiciously. "Well, Mr. Kristoff Andersen, I don't deal with strangers, especially not at this time of morning. Try somewhere else." He made to close the door.

"Hold on, I'm willing to pay!" He scrambled for the gold in his pocket, willing the flames away with all his might. To his relief, his hand came out filled with gold and completely fire-free. The farmer looked down in surprise, and then up again.

"Son, that's enough money to buy two or three good horses, let alone one!"

"I know, but I need it now. Please, I'm begging you."

The farmer considered it for a moment, and then looked at Hans, biting his tongue. "There's a pair of nags in the barn; they're not much but they're the best I've got."

"Thank you," Hans said, dropping the gold into his hand and then hurrying to the barn.

Both mares jumped as he opened the door. Hans put his hands up to calm them, but only succeeded in making them rear as they saw the blaze that had leapt again to his palms. Hans closed his eyes. "Think, think. What does she do, what–" The night in the corridor burst into his mind. "Calm. Of course." He took several deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes again, the flames had disappeared.

The nearest horse shied away as he approached, but he held out his hands again. "Easy, girl," he said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you." _I hope._

The farmer watched as the strange man led one of the horses out of the barn and closed the door. The horse fought him a little, but strangely didn't buck or bite. "I'll be damned," he muttered, as the young man got on the horse and spurred her forward, riding off as fast as the mare could take him.

* * *

***A/N: By my calculations, the Second Star to the Right (and its pairing star to the left) are to the approximate Northeast. In one of the scenes from "You can Fly!" in Peter Pan, you can see the silhouet of the domed top of St. Paul's Cathedral while the Darlings are standing on the edge of Big Ben. The same church is shown a few seconds later, right before they fly across the river. On a map of London, the Cathedral is to the North-East of Big Ben.**

**Well folks, I teased you for two prologues and twenty-seven chapters, but here you finally are! Hans's powers finally manifest themselves- though he still has no idea where or when he got them. Up next, the wedding! See you guys soon!**


	32. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay; I was sick all of yesterday. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Queen Elsa! Princess Anna! Get up, get up!"

A gentle yet excited hand shook them each awake, and Anna blinked as she sat up. The rosy sunrise beyond the glass windows had painted the Great Hall in warm, gentle pinks. "The storm has passed!" Gerda said delightedly.

"Really?" Anna said, yawning. "That's great…" She faded off into dreamland as Elsa groaned and rolled over beside her.

"Your Majesties, please! We have to get you ready!"

"Uhh… ready for what?"

"Why, your wedding, of course! I've already had the families move out of the dressing rooms so they're all prepared."

Anna's eyes opened, as did Elsa's. They glanced at each other, startled, but Elsa quickly said, "Yes, of course, Gerda. Our apologies. Come along, Anna."

Gerda quickly led them out of the Great Hall and through the halls towards the royal dressing rooms. "What's going on?" Anna whispered.

"Just play along. They probably don't realize Hans is missing yet," Elsa whispered back.

"Yeah, okay—whoa, is that your wedding dress?"

Elsa looked down, surprised, and then realized she'd slept in the dress she'd created for herself in the chapel, looking as pristine as it had the night before. "The best thing about snow," she said primly, "is that it doesn't stain, it doesn't rip and it doesn't wrinkle."

"It just melts," Anna said with a giggle, and then stifled herself when Gerda shushed them.

A team of maids and ladies-in-waiting were already in the dressing rooms when the pair arrived. The morning sunlight streamed in bright through the windows, a pleasant sight that made Elsa smile with relief.

"Sit, please, m'Ladies, sit!" a maid urged, pushing both of them into chairs. What happened next, neither Anna nor Elsa would later be able to correctly relate, only remembering snippets of the ladies-in-waiting's preparations as the women flurried around them, oohing and ahhing every few seconds. Despite Elsa's protestations that she could do it herself, the handmaids insisted on fixing her hair ("Pish posh, your Majesty; just sit back and let us handle everything!"), and it seemed to Anna that she couldn't turn one way or the other without someone clucking at her for moving ("Please, your Highness, if you could just hold still a moment longer-!")

Eventually at some point, someone cried, "Mirror! Somebody find a mirror!" and the constant tuggings and pullings and pluckings stopped. Elsa and Anna both found themselves standing in front of a full-length mirror, gaping.

"It's the latest fashion, m'Ladies!" one of the handmaids said excitedly.

Neither the princess nor the queen could quite figure out what to say- in fact, they couldn't speak at all. Both of their faces had been caked with white powder, rouge, and brilliant shades of eye shadow. The maids had even left little black beauty marks just beneath each of their lips.

Elsa was the first to recover, clearing her throat. "Er, well, yes, ladies, thank you for this wonderful, um… work. I-I'm sure I can help the princess get into her wedding dress myself."

"Oh, of course, your Majesty!" one of the maids said, as if mortified to think they'd stayed a moment too long. "We'll be going straightaway!"

"Yes, straightaway, m'Ladies!"

"Straightaway!"

Quickly the dressing room was emptied. As soon as the door had clicked shut, the two sisters looked at each other and burst out laughing. "There is no way," Elsa chuckled, "we are going out in public like this."

"The latest fashion in _where?!"_ Anna said through her guffaws. "The North Pole?!"

"Here." Elsa quickly hurried over to her washbowl and wet the washcloth. She quickly wiped off Anna's makeup and then her own. "If anyone asks, we had an allergic reaction."

"Yeah, to cake frosting," Anna giggled as Elsa redid her sister's eyes and lips, this time in a much more natural manner.

"You should go put on your dress," Elsa advised.

"Alright. I'll need your help." Anna quickly disappeared behind the dressing screen as Elsa reapplied her own makeup. After a moment, she walked back out. "Can you do the back?"

"Of course." Elsa walked behind Anna and tightened the laces, tying it at the bottom. "And now your veil."

"Don't forget yours," Anna said, putting hers on. Elsa waved her hands and recreated the lacy cathedral veil. Together, they turned and looked in the mirror.

"My goodness," the older sister said softly. "Look at us."

It truly was a sight to behold. Their different styles were reflected in their dress and hair (Anna's was down and curled beautifully over her shoulders, while Elsa's had been done back in a braided bun with a coronet over top), but each was just as lovely as the other.

"Oh, we nearly forgot!" Elsa said in surprise, and quickly hurried away. She returned a moment later with two carved wooden boxes—one with a sapphire in the center, and one with a ruby.

"Mother had these made for us when we were girls," the Queen said. She opened both to reveal two intricate silver crowns designed like a child's summer flower wreath, frozen in time. From the leaves around the edges were tiny dangling bangles, rumored to ward off evil spirits with their jingling. Decorating the flowers were gemstones matching their box, and in the center of the foremost flowers was a jewel larger than the rest. "They're wedding _kransens,"_ Elsa said, placing the sapphire-lined crown atop her veil. She did the same for Anna with the ruby kransen, and then said with a smile, _"Now_ you look perfect." She glanced at her sister, expecting to see her smiling.

Much to her surprise, Anna's perpetually happy expression had faded, and she looked away, blinking hard.

"Anna?" Elsa said, concerned, watching her sister turn away and wipe her eyes. "Anna, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she sniffled, trying valiantly to smile. "I'm f-fine."

"Hold on now; you wouldn't want to ruin your makeup," the elder said, rifling through her dresser drawers until she found a clean handkerchief. "Here; use this."

"I'm sorry," the younger said, but the tears kept coming. "I'm sorry, Elsa, I…" She let out a little choked noise, like a sob.

"Anna, it's fine! It's perfectly normal to cry on your wedding day," Elsa reassured her.

"But it's _not_ my wedding day!" Anna said emphatically, and dissolved into tears, slumping down into her chair.

"Well of course it is! Anna, I promise you, no matter what, you will get your wedding," the Queen said resolutely.

"But that's just it," the princess said unhappily. "I don't _want_ my wedding, Elsa."

"What?" Elsa said, baffled.

Anna sighed through her tears, dropping her head. "Kristoff and I s-split up," she said, burying her head in her hands.

"Split up?" Elsa was floored. "Wha- when did this happen?"

"A f-few weeks ago," Anna mumbled, wiping her eyes.

"But—_why?"_

Anna let out another gasping sob, looking as if she might fall apart all over again, and Elsa said quickly, "Never mind, we don't have to talk about that now. Anna…" She quickly went to embrace her younger sister. Anna accepted gratefully. "I am so, _so_ sorry. I know how much you loved him."

"Love," Anna whispered.

"What?"

"Love. Not loved." She sniffled and drew back. "That's one of the reasons I agreed to end it. If he's not happy being with me now…he never will be. A-and I can't do that to him, Elsa, I c-can't."

There were tears in the elder sister's eyes now, as well. "You have such a big heart, Anna. And I'm sorry it's breaking right now, I really am."

"Thank you," Anna whispered.

"Is there anything I can do? Get you a glass of water, perhaps?"

The younger sister shook her head. "Can we just… sit here for a while? And not talk?"

That was when Elsa knew how badly her sister had to be hurting. Anna _never_ wanted to not talk. "Of course," she said gently. "Anything you want, Anna, I promise."

The other nodded miserably and didn't say another word.

Elsa sat down in the chair beside her, and neither spoke, each lost in her own thoughts. Every now and then, Anna would sniffle pathetically, and Elsa would gently pat her arm , trying to reassure her. It wasn't until she looked down that she realized little frost swirls had appeared around her feet, though thankfully the younger of the sisters was too upset to notice. Though she knew she shouldn't, Elsa couldn't help but feel unhappy for herself, as well.

After all, Anna wasn't the only one who wasn't getting married today.

* * *

The old mare galloped up the near-empty streets of Arendelle towards the palace. It wasn't until Hans reached the gates and pulled the horse to a halt that he realized his hands had seared the leather reins black. He tried to take several slow breaths to calm himself, but it didn't work. "Come on, come on," he muttered, looking at his burning palms.

"Prince Hans!"

He closed his hands into fists and quickly dismounted as he saw Kai run up. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you."

"I have to see the Queen," Hans said urgently.

"Well of course you do, but you'll have to wait half an hour, young man. Can't rush a wedding, and it's lucky, too, considering your state! Of all the irresponsible things to do on your wedding day—where did you get this horse? Never mind that; we need to get you into your uniform!"

"You don't understand; I _need_ to speak with Elsa."

"Yes, and you shall do so at the altar. She's getting ready herself right now, your Highness. Now come along, and quickly!" And before Hans could get another word in edgewise, he found himself being shuffled along by a number of footmen after Kai, none of whom would listen to his insistences that he needed to talk to the Queen.

* * *

It was ten minutes before the wedding was scheduled, and Elsa was beginning to get concerned that no one had run into the room telling her that her beloved fiancé was nowhere to be found.

She'd taken to pacing and wringing her hands, two nervous habits she'd picked up after years of bottling her stress in one tiny bedroom. Anna was watching her walk back and forth. "Elsa- Elsa, you need to calm down," Anna said. The princess's eyes were still red, but at least she wasn't crying any more. "They'll be here any minute."

"What if something's gone wrong?" Elsa demanded. "What if someone's hurt; what if the King found out–"

"It's going to be alright. Everything's gone to plan until now, right? Besides, this place is packed with guards; if the King were causing any trouble they'd take care of it. Just _breathe,_ Elsa." She paused. "Besides, you're making it snow."

"What? Oh." She quickly waved her hand and dissipated the light snowfall that had begun to descend from the ceiling. "You're right. I just need to calm down." She sat down in her chair and took a deep breath, rubbing her temples.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and both she and Anna stood up again, the queen hurrying to open it. "Oh, Gerda, thank goodness," Elsa said with relief. "I was beginning to think someone wouldn't come!"

"Nonsense, your Majesty. Are you two ready? The wedding is about to start!"

Elsa and Anna glanced at each other, baffled, and then back at Gerda. "Wait. What?"

* * *

Kristoff Bjorgman was not having a good day.

He'd been woken up before dawn to go get ready for a wedding that wasn't actually going to happen, although he'd been expecting that. The footmen who'd been assigned to help him had seemed bent for some reason on making him look as ridiculous as humanly possible. While Kristoff had been expecting to wear a _bunad,_ the traditional Arendellian woolen wedding suit, his attendants had seemed intent on breaking tradition for a more modern look—the "latest fashion" in southern Europe or wherever. They'd taken his refusal to wear a tailcoat pretty hard (he didn't have the build for it, no matter what Anna said) and his rejection of the rather feminine-looking shoes they'd tried to force onto his feet even worse. Eventually he'd managed to get them all out of his room, and had rummaged through his clothes until he'd found a pair of gray pants, a gray silk vest and a red shirt that all looked formal enough to get married in. He'd barely been able to get his pair of good black boots on before another servant arrived and told him it was time to go to the church.

_That_ was strange, he'd decided. Surely someone would've noticed Hans had skipped town by now, and postponed the wedding to send out a search party. By the time he'd arrived at the church and had been pushed in the side door to the front of the altar, his nerves were jumping. It didn't help that he was in front of what seemed like all of Arendelle and then some.

The bishop didn't look too well off, either. Willum was hastily reading through a book of Latin prayers, looking pale and anxious. "Willum, what in the world is going on?" Kristoff muttered under his breath.

"I don't know; I was halfway through a bowl of oatmeal when someone came and told me it was time to officiate a wedding!" the bishop said frantically.

"Well I can't get married today Willum, I–" He stopped suddenly as another young man was quickly placed in front of him by Kai. _"Hans?"_

"In the flesh," the prince muttered. Despite being rather sharply dressed in his deep-blue naval uniform and silver crown, he looked incredibly nervous and worse for wear, wringing his hands like he wanted to pull them off. Kristoff noticed absently that he was missing his gloves.

"What are you doing here?" the mountain man demanded in a whisper.

"It's a long story; I need to find–" He was cut off suddenly as the choir began the music for the opening march. The doors to the chapel opened, and for a moment, both Kristoff and Hans completely forgot what they'd been talking about.

Kristoff had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life as Anna looked right then. She was a vision of lace and silk, a fiery-haired angel in her element. But something had clearly gone terribly wrong. The angel didn't look happy. In fact, as her eyes met his, they adopted a panicked look—one he was sure was mirrored on his own face.

Hans, on the other hand, was for once in his life stunned speechless. Elsa had looked lovely in her wedding dress the night before, but now, with the snow sparkling in the bright morning light as if her gown and veil were crafted of millions of tiny diamonds, she looked positively _radiant._ That was, until she spotted the prince, and her eyes flew wide in shock.

The pair, escorted by Kai and Gerda, walked the aisle to the front of the chapel. The march closed with a swift cutoff from the conductor, leaving the completely unprepared bishop to begin the wedding Mass. "Er—_in nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti,"_ he began, crossing himself.

_"Amen,"_ the congregation responded dutifully.

_"Pax vobis."_

_"Et cum spiritu tuo."_

"W-welcome, everyone," Willum said, looking pale. "We are gathered here today to- to celebrate the joining of four, uh, admirable people into two families—our new Queen and King, and the princess and her prince…"

"What are you _doing_ here?" Elsa hissed.

"I need to speak with you," Hans said tersely.

"You couldn't have found a better place to do it than _at the altar?!"_

"…An auspicious occasion, I am sure, for not only these four young men and women, but for our country as a whole," Willum said, glancing pointedly at Elsa with an expression that clearly said, _do something!_

"I tried to leave last night, I did! But I had to come back!" Hans insisted.

"What in the _world_ could possibly have possessed you to come back?!"

"There was this woman-!"

_"_"You had to come back for a _woman?!"_

"…Today, we all stand as witnesses to a historic union between kingdoms, families, peoples…"

"No, a woman _made_ me come back!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"There was this—this ice witch, or–"

Elsa's eyes flew wide. _"What did you just call me?!"_

"…The binding of souls…"

"That's not what I meant! She cursed me–"

"I have done _nothing_ to you!"

"…And, at its heart, four people very much in love…"

"You agreed you'd leave, we swore a pact!"

"Elsa, I–"

"You ungrateful, lying, underhanded–"

"You don't underst–"

"–Rat of a man with no sense of–"

"If you would just _listen to me!"_ Hans exploded, finally losing his temper. Fire blasted from his hands across the chapel floor.

Willum had stopped speaking. Everyone was staring at him, shocked, Elsa most of all. Hans realized what he'd done and took a step back. "How did you-?" Elsa whispered.

"That was– I–"

Elsa's eyes filled with sudden realization, as a dozen images flashed through her mind: Hans, his arm unharmed by the flames eating away at his jacket sleeve. Hans's hands spreading around the fire of an overturned candle instead of putting it out. Hans swearing emphatically that he'd had nothing to do with the fire, the fire that destroyed a room with an _unopened tinderbox. _"It was you," she breathed.

"Elsa–" he started desperately, but she cut him off.

"It all makes sense now. Your first plan failed, so you concocted this entire charade to me trust _you,_ fall in love with _you!" _The ice around the chapel had started to crack and fracture darkly as Elsa's anger built to a seething wrath. "Is that why you came to Arendelle in the first place?! Did you _know_ about me?! What am I _saying,_ of course you did, you admitted you had spies here–"

"Elsa, I didn't–"

"I should have known better than to trust you," she seethed, stalking forward. "I should have known when you came _crawling_ back here that you had some underhanded motive! I don't know how you got ahold of magic, but I swear to you, Prince Hans, I _will_ find out, and I will _never_ let a monster like you hurt me or my family _again!"_

The icy blast flew from her fingertips like daggers, and Hans dove out of the way just in time, rolling across the ground and ending up on his feet in the church nave. He drew his sword instinctively, all his senses going into overdrive. The people around him screamed. Elsa's eyes snapped wide, and with a decisive gesture she knocked the weapon from his hand.

Hans's own eyes went wide as he realized he was completely helpless. Elsa's had narrowed again with fury, her lip curled. He'd only ever seen that look on her face once before, and this time there was no _him_ to stop her from spearing him through with an icicle. He had nothing, no sword, no weapon–

_Wait._

He did have a weapon. Just one. But it would be enough; it had to be. "Fine," he said darkly, opening his hands like claws. "Let's make this a fair fight."

The flames curled around his fingers in a way that felt both alien and yet strangely natural. Elsa's eyes widened again, and then narrowed even further. For one infinitely long second, each sized the other up.

_Fire melts ice._

_Snow douses fire._

_Which one is stronger?_

Neither was quite sure who moved first, but the great blasts of fire and ice struck together with a loud hiss. Steam filled the air, and Hans took advantage of the situation, sending another roaring jet of flames into the fog. It was returned a moment later by needle-sharp icicles, which he dodged. These cut through the mist, making both visible again, and he saw her ready for another shot. The wedding-goers screamed as he jumped over the nearest railing of pews.

Elsa had more control and practice, but Hans was a fast learner. He brought his hands down and across like an X, sending two lines of fire around the circle towards the Queen. She dropped to a knee to avoid them, and then swept her hand out, causing a ring of icicles to appear from the ground right in front of him. Hans backed way just in time and melted the ice with a similar ring of flames. Two blasts met again as each tried to strike the other.

Elsa could faintly hear the parishioners screaming behind the pounding in her ears, and glanced around just briefly to see that the majority of them were cowering behind their pews. Sparks and snowflakes filled the air. Kristoff had pushed Anna far off to the side, he and Willum protecting her like human shields. Elsa breathed a sigh of relief to see that her sister was safe.

That moment's distraction cost her, however; another wave of flames caught her off-guard, and she let out a sharp cry as it seared her arm. A moment later, the feeling of cooling ice crystals relieved the pain, and she looked across the open space to the prince. His teeth were gritted, eyes narrowed. It was that same expression she'd seen when he'd swept the papers off the library table in anger.

_Anger._ Of course. How much control he had over his powers, Elsa didn't know, but it was a safe bet that he was angry enough now for that control to be slipping. He had power, but how good was he with precision?

She began to advance around the circle as fast as she could, trying to reach him. Hans recognized the strategy and began to throw out attacks. Elsa didn't dodge them, instead using her powers to blast them out of the way before they could reach her. Whenever she had a free moment, she created an obstacle in his path, slowing down his retreat. She was getting closer, and he was getting panicked. For a split second, he lost his focus, glancing towards the church doors.

That was all the time Elsa needed. She dove forward, closing the distance between them. Hans looked back at her, but before he could ready another attack, she'd sent a wave of icicles shooting up from the ground to pin him to the church wall behind him, identical to how she'd trapped the Westleton guard all those months ago in her ice palace. Another blast froze both of his hands to the wall. Try as he might to melt the ice, she continued to refortify it, as another icicle grew towards his neck. Hans began to struggle more violently, trying to get free, his eyes wide with panic. Elsa's teeth ground, her lips curled in a sneer of fury. The tip of the icicle inched closer, and he closed his eyes tight, turning away. She willed herself to end this.

And then… and then, she stopped. _No, Elsa,_ a clear, firm voice said in the back of her mind. _You aren't a monster, remember?_

The icicle nearing his throat suddenly stopped its ascent, and Hans, noticing the fact that he was still alive, looked back at her in shock. He barely had the time to realize what had happened before Elsa stamped her foot to the church floor. Ice fractaled out at a lightning speed, forming a column that crystalized around him, racing from his feet to his head until the prince was entirely encased in ice.

For one long moment, the church was silent.

And then Elsa pulled her hands back, and the ice shattered, falling in large chunks all across the floor. Hans fell with them, collapsing to the ground. Elsa hurried forward, hands at the ready, and cautiously checked to make sure he was still alive, pressing two fingers under his neck. The prince was dangerously pale, but his chest rose and fell evenly, and a faint pulse beat under her fingerprints. "He's unconscious," she said, standing up.

She turned to see the entire congregation staring at her. A memory of the previous year's coronation ball flashed through her mind, and she pulled her hands in close, wringing them. _"Monster!"_ she heard the Duke's voice echo in her head.

_Now you've done it. They won't forgive you again! Go! Run for it, before–_

"Are you alright, m'Lady?" a voice asked tentatively, snapping Elsa out of her inner diatribe. "Your arm…"

She recognized the speaker to be Gerda, and glanced down at her forearm. Her stomach turned over at the sight of the shiny pink burn, and a wave of pain rolled through her as the adrenaline faded. She let out a small noise as she grasped at it, tears pricking her eyes.

"She's hurt!" one of the villagers said urgently. "Is anyone here a doctor?"

"Hold up now, I'm a doctor," a male voice said from near the back, and he hurried forward through the aisle. Elsa vaguely recognized him as the ice harvester who'd delivered the message of the oncoming blizzard—Sigurd Jorgensen, she thought his name was. "Easy there, yer Majesty. We'll get you cleaned up, don't you worry."

Anna quickly hurried forward. The Queen noticed that part of her silk gown had been seared away, black at the edges. "It's alright, Elsa," said the princess in a reassuring tone, for which Elsa was grateful. "Let's just get you to the infirmary. Guards!" Quickly, two stepped forward. "Bring Prince Hans to the dungeons. If he tries anything, knock him unconscious again."

"Your Majesty," one of the guards said, as Anna and Sigurd helped Elsa to the back of the church. "Should we place him in the…the modified cell?"

Anna glanced to Elsa, biting her lip. Elsa hesitated, and then nodded. "Do what you must." The trio left together, Gerda following after.

"Everyone, please, return to your homes," Willum said as the crowd began to buzz. "We will have this sorted out as soon as we are able."

The guards pulled the unconscious prince out of the chapel as the congregation left behind them. They were halfway to the castle when a few figures hurried up to them. "Hold on, now, hold on; that's our brother!"

The guards stopped and quickly bowed. "Your Majesty," they intoned in unison.

"Is he alright?" Agnar said, voice full of worry. Behind him were a pair of his younger brothers, looking on with similar expressions.

"Just unconscious, your Majesty."

The king sighed, seemingly distressed. "My poor, foolish brother… I really thought…" He looked to the guards pleadingly. "Please, let us take him from here. Perhaps when he awakens, I can talk some sense into him."

The guards glanced at each other. "I don't think the Queen would mind," one said. "There is a cell in the back, with cuffs designed for…this sort of need."

"Understood," the king said wearily. "My thanks to both of you. We can take it from here."

They passed off the unconscious man to his brothers, and then left. As soon as they'd left, Agnar glanced at the other two. "Let's go," he said darkly, all traces of fraternal concern gone.

The pair chuckled scornfully and followed the eldest, the dragging boots of the youngest leaving twin trails in the snow behind them.


	33. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

_Clink. Click. Clink. Click._

"Pacing will not aid you, Julia."

"If you would just do your _job,_ I wouldn't have to pace!" the Snow Queen hissed, turning to the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her coolly, obviously unimpressed. "I demand you let me watch these events unfold!"

"The building is sanctified territory, you know that as well as I do."

"The whole _castle_ is sanctified territory!" the Snow Queen shrieked. "Show me the chapel!"

"I have no power within the Enemy's fortress; my powers end its threshold."

The Snow Queen growled and continued her pace. She walked over to the balcony and looked up to the cloud-covered. On an impulse, she raised a hand to the cold blizzard air.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the mirror told her coldly. "You'll see things you don't like."

The Snow Queen ignored it. With a flick of her wrist, the clouds parted slightly, and for a brief moment, she could see the stars.

And then, the wavering bands of rose and green infiltrated the cleared space.

_Julia!_

With a catlike hiss, she waved her hands again, and the clouds closed over the gap. Still, the name echoed in her mind. _Julia! Julia!_

"Julia!"

She started at that, and turned. The mirror no longer reflected the palace room; instead, there was a meadow, decked in the green colors of spring, with little rosebuds flowering along in the grass. A lone figure walked through it—a blonde-haired girl, fair-faced and blue-eyed. Young and lovely.

_"There you are!"_ a faint male voice called from inside the mirror. A new figure had entered the scene, a young man in a tunic, hurrying towards the girl. _"I've been looking for you!"_

The girl laughed. _"I've been right here the whole time, Adam."_

"No," the Snow Queen snapped. "Enough."

_"Julia, the spring festival shall happen soon, and—well, I was wondering if you would go with me."_

The girl was suddenly shy. _"Adam, I would love to."_

"Cease this foolishness immediately!"

The young man grinned. He took her cheek in the palm of his hand-

"I said ENOUGH!"

The screech fractured the icy walls around her, and the image in the mirror froze in time. "I told you," an invisible voice said from within the shattered glass. "You'll see things you don't like."

The Snow Queen was breathing hard. She approached the mirror, stared at the image. Loathing was written in every line in her face as her eyes found that of the young man. He was young, fresh and handsome. Brown hair, freckles across his nose. Strong features. And that stupid little girl, her eyes closed, so trusting, so foolish…

_"One kind word,"_ the Snow Queen whispered,

"_One soft kiss,_

_A promise that you'd be true."_ She turned away from the mirror.

"_One wrong step,_

_You broke my hope,_

_This heart meant nothing to you."_

She closed her eyes. Despite her will, her feet beginning to trace an ancient country dance. Though a thousand years had passed, there are memories one never forgets. The heart never forgets.

"_Your words so sweet,_

_My hand in yours._

"_Slowly you spun me_

_Across the floor."_ She twirled slightly, in her long furs and dress. Even as she did so, a flurry of snowflakes flew to her side, taking the form of a young man, dancing in step to her voice.

"_Our fingers tenderly intertwined_

_You swore you were only mine."_

"_One kind word,_

_All lies, all cheats,_

_A passing game to please you."_ She opened her eyes as another snowy figure arose from the ground, lithe and feminine.

"_A song so good_

_But now it seems_

_The tune turned sour and cruel!"_

Her partner broke away smoothly, carelessly, leaving her for the new figure. The Snow Queen's face contorted with rage. _"Your words so sweet—_

_What was it for?!_

_Surely you knew_

_My heart was yours!_

_You crushed my dreams, you paid the price_

_In fear and snow and ice!"_

With a dramatic wave of her hand, ice encapsulated the snowy figures, and they froze solid where they stood, hands outstretched in futile pleading.

"_But now I swear,_

_Now I know,_

_The myth of warmth won't near me!"_ The sorceress strode again to the balcony, looking out over the frozen northern wasteland.

"_I'll see the world_

_Bow down low,_

_All will come to revere me!"_

And…she paused. Just for a moment. She turned back to the icy statues she had created, and touched the male figure's frozen cheek with her pale, bloodless figures.

"_And thou, Love, foulest lie and foe,"_ she said softly,

"_Art dead and gone in fear of me."_

Her voice faded away into the sound of the winter winds. As she stepped back, a snowy servant suddenly entered the room. "Yes?" she said sharply.

"My Queen," he said, bowing. "I am sorry to intrude, but we have received word from the Southern King…he has found the last shard."

* * *

Hans was awoken by sharp pain in his shoulder and knee, and a sickening _crack_ as his head smacked sharply against a hard surface for the second time that day. Through dizzyingly blurred eyes, he saw his silver crown go skittering off over the stones. Certain that he'd sustained a concussion by now, he groaned and sat up. Before he could look around, however, someone—no, two someones—had dragged him backwards, and clapped what felt like metal gloves over his hands.

He looked up dazedly to see a pair of twin green eyes looking back at him. "You," he growled, getting to his feet. "Of course it would be you."

"Anything else, my liege?" one of his older brothers said—Caspar, he thought by the voice, but he couldn't tell without looking back.

"Nothing. Leave us," Agnar commanded.

Quickly they headed for the door. Before they left, however, Caspar muttered, "What should we do with this?" Hans saw a flash of metallic light in the shadows.

"Leave it with me." The younger nodded and laid what ever it was on the ground behind the king's boots, and then the pair left together, leaving the door open just a crack behind them.

"Agnar, you need to let me out," Hans said vehemently. "I need to speak with the Queen; this isn't a game!"

"No, it most certainly isn't," Agnar agreed in a very self-satisfied tone.

"Didn't you see what happened in there?! I could hurt someone!"

"Is that a threat?" the king said, taking a step forward.

"No," Hans said heatedly. "It's a warning."

Agnar raised an amused eyebrow. "A warning? How noble of you, Hans."

He looked entirely unaffected, and Hans couldn't understand it. "Agnar—_brother,_ listen to me!" That drew the king's attention. "This is dangerous. You didn't see what I saw last year; I need to speak with Elsa and _explain_ to her what happened, before the magic gets too powerful and I lose control of it!"

"Hm. Now, why would I do something which would upset my whole plan?" Agnar drawled condescendingly.

Hans stared. "What?"

"You losing control of your powers is the very thing I want." He smiled. "As a matter of fact, Hans, you've helped me. Your little stunt in the church gave me the last push I needed to… finish a special errand, shall we say. The Snow Queen will be very pleased."

"The Snow…" His eyes widened as it dawned on him. "You're working with the sorceress," he breathed.

"Someone give the man a prize," Agnar chuckled. "Yes, Hans, I'm working with the Snow Queen. Have been for a while, as a matter of fact. You see, this 'sorceress' of yours is actually the guardian of a very powerful artifact."

"The Devil's Mirror," Hans nearly whispered, his mind flashing back to that night around the harvesters' fire. "_They say she walks the earth still, searching for the lost fragments of the mirror.'"_

"She is close—_very_ close. This last little shard here came from a corrupted French aristocrat's monocle," Agnar said with relish, pulling out a silver box that seemed to glow blue and scarlet from within. He retrieved from it a nearly translucent fragment of cerulean glass and held it up admiringly. To Hans, it almost appeared to be glowing. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He placed the shard back inside the box and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "With that, only three are still in use, and those shall be collected quite easily, if all goes to plan. When the Snow Queen covers the world in ice, she's promised to spare Arendelle and the Southern Isles for me."

"Elsa would never allow you to take Arendelle, not while she can still defend it. And neither will I."

"You?" The king laughed. "In case you didn't notice, Hans, you're a danger to everyone right now. You said so yourself. And as to Queen Elsa, you're a fool for thinking she'd ever be to your aid—after all, wasn't she the one about to turn you into an ice sculpture twenty minutes ago? Not that I was there myself, but I have it on word of some very good sources that her Majesty was less than clement towards your predicament, wasn't she?"

Hans didn't know how to reply, so he simply glared at his elder brother. "You see, Hans, the now that the Queen has seen your betrayal, everything you may have said is thrown into question. It's a pity she didn't kill you during that little spat in the church," Agnar added idly. "But that will be shortly arranged. This day will end with an icicle through your heart one way or another."

"She wouldn't," Hans ground out. "She's better than us."

"No, she's not," Agnar mused. "She just likes to think she is. But it doesn't matter; all I have to do is convince her that you're a danger to her people. It shouldn't be hard to pull off; after all, you have done _remarkably _in proving my point. Once she believes that you're a threat to Arendelle and her precious sister, she'll be more than happy to freeze you solid."

"You're wrong."

Agnar laughed. "You really are a tireless optimist, aren't you?" He gestured to the stone walls on each side. "Look around you, Hans. Look where you are. You think the Queen's going to listen to you now?"

Hans stared back, looking incredibly small and at a loss for words. Agnar let out a low half-chuckle and drew back. "That's what I thought." He headed towards the door. "You should be happy, Hans. You've finally found your place in this world: a prison cell, where all lying, thieving criminals like you truly belong."

He kicked the object Caspar had left behind into the watery light that entered through the window, and Hans saw that it was his sword. "What a shame it is, that you'll only be able to enjoy it for a few hours."

His hand was on the doorknob when Hans spoke:

"The _Aspiration_ wasn't struck by lightning, was it?"

Agnar glanced over his shoulder. Hans had stood, face pale.

"I've never been burned, not since I was a child. And father was so particular about us wearing gloves. He sent me into the navy when I was sixteen; I wasn't even of age!" All the twos and fours were lining up. "Agnar, how long have I been like this?! Why are there things I can't remember?!"

The older brother had turned back towards the door, so that Hans could only see his face in profile. "…Thirteen eligible royals, Hans," he said, in a smug, silky voice that the youngest brother knew all too well. _"Two _unmarried princesses, one about to be crowned queen. Didn't you ever wonder why the others turned down the invitation?"

"Because you knew about Elsa." His mind was racing down the tracks of logic. "You knew all along—because the sorceress had already _told_ you." A horrible thought dawned on him. "These powers didn't come from nowhere. Elsa had been protected inside this castle her whole life, but if something were to make her leave…" Agnar chuckled. "You knew I'd try to court her; you may as well have sent me yourself."

"And you played your part almost perfectly, I might add. Shame you spoiled the ending," Agnar sighed. "And we _were_ all hoping for a little light show, but the Snow Queen's memory enchantments are strong. I'd wager you never even took off the gloves."

"You _knew_ if we met that she'd reveal her powers eventually and be exiled by her people as a witch. Probably hoped to get my exile thrown into the bargain, too," Hans added, calculating the odds. "The Snow Queen would have been free to approach her, and with their monarch out of the way, Arendelle was wide open to invasion." Then, suddenly, his voice grew stronger. "But Anna—you weren't _counting_ on Anna. Ever-overlooked little _Anna_ screwed up your plans." Hans smirked despite the gravity of the situation. "Looks like we both underestimated Arendelle, _brother."_

Agnar's expression had morphed from gloating to glowering. "You were always too clever for your own good, Hans," he sneered. The younger's smirk grew—at least, until Agnar added: "Let's see if the Queen comes to the same conclusion."

And with that, he walked through the iron cell door and slammed it shut behind him.

Hans started after and tried to get to the door, only to have his arms nearly yanked out of their sockets when the chains attached to the cuffs snapped tight. He turned and pulled at them as hard as he could, but it was futile. The cuffs refused to budge.

Eventually he gave up and just stood there, looking around the cell. His pride at his own cleverness was quickly melting as the reality of the situation poured back in, and he sat down. Things began to click into place in his brain: large gaps of time, sometimes days or weeks, that he'd suddenly remembered he _couldn't_ remember: waking up in the palace infirmary after the _Aspiration _sank and being told the ship had caught fire in a lightning storm. Learning one summer morning that his fencing tutor had been dismissed without cause. There were the beatings he'd gotten for not wearing his gloves, it had seemed so eccentric of his father, and then Arendelle…

_I came to Arendelle. I saw the invitation and felt—felt like it was _destiny_, like I was being drawn to it. _He wracked his brains, feeling nauseous. _I always felt like they were keeping secrets from me. When did it start? How much of my life do I not remember?_

The air was pressing in on him; the story he'd heard from the harvesters was worming into his brain. _Whoever comes into contact with the shards becomes corrupted by them. When people stand in my way, it's like something else takes over me. No—no, it's still me, but it's so easy, to slip into that mold._ For the first time in his life he was examining his decisions from the outside, and what he saw terrified him. There had never been any voice in his ear, never a hint of something else controlling him—except for an unspoken conviction that if he just listened to his more ruthless urges, he would get what he wanted. _How much has this thing affected me?_

And Elsa… she must have thought he was nothing but a traitor and a liar. Which he was, but that was beside the point. Even so, surely the Queen wouldn't just kill him outright. After all, she hadn't killed him during their fight in the church, though she'd clearly wanted to.

_But if she thought you were a threat to her sister? _that little mocking voice said in the back of his mind. _A threat to her people?_

Granted, she was fiercely protective of Anna and Arendelle. But she'd still hear him out; she'd help him if he just told her the truth…wouldn't she?

_Would you believe someone like you, if you were in her shoes?_

But—but Elsa wasn't like him; she was _good._ Surely she wouldn't execute him in cold blood…

The little voice only laughed.

* * *

As it happened, the Queen's thoughts were as much with the prince as his were with her.

After getting her arm bandaged by Sigurd and reassuring Anna and Gerda that she was fine, Elsa had fled the infirmary (and her maid and sister's constant questions) and taken to wandering the empty halls alone. The castle seemed dead quiet now, since the villagers had all left to their own homes again. She'd changed into her simpler teal-and-black cotton dress and had let her hair down in its braid, unable to handle looking like a blushing bride another moment longer.

She couldn't believe she'd been such a fool. Elsa had always considered herself a little wiser than her bubbly younger sister, more reserved and thus more likely to see things for what they really were. It seemed, however, that she'd been duped by the prince's tricks as easily as Anna had. Even worse, she'd done the very _last_ thing she'd intended to do, the most senseless, ridiculous thing she could have done: she'd fallen for him. She'd _trusted _him.

"Stupid, stupid," she muttered to herself. She ran a hand through her bangs, the heels of her boots clicking sharply on the floors as she paced. Frost curled along the hardwood in great curving arcs. "How could you have been so foolish? He could have killed them! He could have killed _you!"_ With a violent sweep of her hand, she sent icy designs skittering along the walls, furious. "You of all people should have known not to let your guard down! You know better than anyone what he's capable of!"

"Your Majesty."

"What?!" she demanded angrily, whirling around. King Agnar stepped back in surprise as ice crystallized harmlessly across his vest and jacket. Elsa pulled her hand back, startled. "K-King Agnar! I'm so sorry, I–"

"Think nothing of it, your Majesty," he said, brushing the ice off. "No harm done."

"I apologize," she said with a sigh, sitting down on a nearby bench. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone for a while. I didn't mean to-"

"It's hardly your fault. Your anger is understandable."

Despite his reassurances, she felt terrible that she'd struck anyone even superficially with her powers. As if trying to set her more at ease, Agnar sat down beside her. Elsa felt herself tense up, apprehensive, but reminded herself that whatever Hans had said about the man was probably nothing but lies. _Lies to gain your willing trust. _"I think I understand what you must be feeling," the king said, sounding incredibly weary. "I truly thought…but he played us both."

"I beg your pardon?" said Elsa, confused.

"When Hans begged me for a second chance, an opportunity to make things right, I thought that perhaps he really had experienced a change in heart," Agnar said heavily. "I should have realized it was too good to be true, but he seemed so honest, so genuine… I see now that I, as his king, was far too close to the situation to make that call."

"He has a talent for playing the hero," Elsa agreed bitterly. "And apparently for nearly burning down churches, too. I just don't understand _how_ this could have happened!"

"Nor do I, though I expect with his talents of deception he could have had these powers for a long time without anyone ever realizing it. I should have known better than to trust him."

"We both should have," Elsa said, attempting to comfort him.

The king turned his gaze to hers. "Queen Elsa, I sought you out because I felt we must discuss what is to be done with him."

"I'm afraid I don't understand…?"

"I know that it seems too soon, but a decision must be made on how this matter ought to be handled. Considering all the crimes he has committed against you and your people, I think it would be better to render justice swiftly rather than wait until spring."

"Spring?" Elsa questioned, baffled.

"Yes. I realize that it would be easier to bury the body then, but I think both our kingdoms have tarried long enough wasting pity on the man."

"The body—but you're talking execution!" Elsa gasped, eyes wide.

"Your Majesty, though I'm reluctant to bring it up, were you not more than prepared to do away with him this morning in the chapel?"

"But that- I mean-" She struggled for some sort of explanation, the guilt curdling like sour milk in the pit of her stomach. "Th-that was different; it was self-defense-"

"Queen Elsa, please don't misunderstand; I'm not condemning you," Agnar said, in the gentlest of tones. "As a matter of fact, I think putting an end to Hans's scheming is the best possible option, all things considered."

Elsa's mind was whirling. "But execution—it just seems so harsh, especially when we have suitable alternatives."

"Alternatives suitable to punish three separate accounts of attempted regicide? Of taking advantage of not only you, but your dear sister as well? Even if you can contain such a criminal and protect your people, your Majesty, that would not be justice. Hans _deserves _death for what he's done—to you, to your sister, and to Arendelle."

Elsa stood wordlessly, walking a few paces away to think. Agnar watched her carefully. For a long moment, the Queen didn't speak, her back to him. When at last she spoke, her tone was impossible to decipher. "…You, as his…king?"

"Begging your pardon?" Agnar questioned.

"You said that you, as his king, were too close to make the call regarding his second chance," Elsa said quietly. "King. Not brother."

"I'm sorry, is there a point to this?" He sounded almost irritated. "Your Majesty, if we could return to the topic at hand-"

"When I was out on that fjord, everyone, including myself, thought that I deserved to die," Elsa cut him off, voice still soft and unreadable. "Anna didn't have to save me. I'd hurt her, almost killed her. I'd shut her out of my life for years; we weren't even close. No one would have blamed her if she had saved herself instead, least of all me." Though her tone was quiet, her words were sharp and clear as cut glass. "But she put my life ahead of hers, for no other reason than that I was her sister. That she loved me." Elsa turned to look at the Southern king, her blue eyes full of an icy fire. "Five minutes we have been speaking, and though you've talked of execution, not once have you called Hans your brother. How lucky I am, that Anna didn't see me the way you see him."

"Your Majesty," Agnar said through gritted teeth, all traces of empathy gone. "I implore you to listen-"

"I'm done listening. I don't know what I'm going to do about Hans, but I can _assure_ you that he will not face a cold-blooded execution. Not from me."

"You are a fool," he hissed. "A naive little girl with no sense in her empty skull!"

"And you are a cruel, heartless man who deserves neither his throne nor his family," Elsa retorted coldly. "You will leave my castle immediately and you will not return, do I make myself clear?"

His face was contorted in an ugly snarl. "Why you-!"

"Guards!" Elsa called, voice echoing off the walls. Within seconds, at least three guardsmen had appeared at the end of the hallway. "Gentlemen, would please escort King Agnar off the palace grounds?" she said with steel in her voice. "He seems to feel that the company here is inadequate for him."

If the guards found anything strange with this request, they didn't voice it. Answering, "Yes, your Majesty," in unison, they courteously but firmly put their hands on the king's shoulders. Just before they pulled him away, Agnar spat, "This isn't over, Queen Elsa."

"Good day, King Agnar," she said curtly, and then the guards led him off down the hall and away.

* * *

"Gerda!"

The housekeeper turned quickly to see her husband running up to her. "Kai, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Where is the Queen?" the head footman said urgently. Willum hurried up behind him.

"After we got her bandaged up she insisted on going off alone. She left before I had time to speak with her at all."

"We need to find her," Willum said grimly. "Is she still in the castle?"

"I believe so; I'm not sure where." Her face was troubled. "Kai-"

"I know." He was deathly pale. "It's happening again, Gerda. But much fiercer and farther-reaching."

"We have to find Elsa before she leaves the palace," said the bishop. "Where would she have gone?"

"I don't know. Perhaps she became tired of being alone and went to her sister's room?" Gerda suggested.

"As good a start as any. Let's go." The pair of servants quickly followed after the bishop, their quick footsteps echoing through the halls.

* * *

Elsa had made her way to the picture room by the time she finally cooled down. The nerve of the king! Furious as she was with Hans, she realized that he had been honest, at least, of his brothers' opinions of him. She recalled the way the trio of his elder siblings had mocked him at the ball, not to mention how carelessly Balthazar had struck him in the study, and wondered how she could have forgotten it. Whatever the youngest prince's faults, and deceit was among them, he hadn't lied about their treatment of him; she had seen proof of it with her own two eyes.

Still, was she really one to feel so indignant? Especially after that morning…her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of what had happened in the chapel. But then, they were his brothers, and she was the Queen whom he had betrayed—not once, but twice now! And his magic—how in the _world_ did he have magic? It didn't make any sense; she'd never heard of anyone else having this sort of abilities, let alone _him,_ of all people. Elsa didn't believe in coincidences; no, what had happened in the chapel was planned, she was sure of it, but why? Why had he come here, both now and all those months ago? Why try to kill her now, after so many golden opportunities? Why hide his magic and pretend to be repentant, only to reveal his true colors at the most inopportune moment? Why? Why?

"Heya, Elsa!" The cheerful voice startled her, drawing her attention back to the present, and she saw Olaf waddling towards her, accompanied by his signature flurry.

"Olaf," she said, with obvious relief. "Thank goodness; I thought it might be—someone else."

"Nope, just me," he said with a grin. Then, he frowned. "Hey, I saw some guards leading King Agnar out of the castle. What happened? Are you okay?"

"Oh, that," Elsa sighed. "I had them escort him out. He won't be staying here anymore." She decided to leave the reasons as to why unstated.

"Gee, that's sad; I was hoping we could be friends. He doesn't seem to have very many, except for that creepy ice lady."

Elsa's eyes went wide, and she looked down. "Olaf, what did you just say?"

"I said, 'Gee, that's sad; I was hoping we-'"

"No, the part about the ice lady."

"Oh, her. Yeah, she was weird. She looked like you, but she _wasn't."_ He said this all very emphatically, as if the thought that anyone other than Elsa could have ice powers was astounding.

Which it was. Elsa was astounded, anyway. She quickly knelt down in front of him. "Olaf," she said seriously, "Are you _certain_ that you saw King Agnar talking to a woman who looked like she could have ice magic?"

"Yeah, why?"

The wave of guilt suddenly washed over her again, and Elsa felt herself go pale. "Oh no," she breathed.

"What's wrong?" Olaf said, suddenly panicking. "Are you sick? Are you hurt? Don't worry, Elsa, I'll go for help!" He turned as if to hurry away as fast as his little legs could carry him.

"No, no, I'm alright, I jus–" She pressed a hand to her temple, distressed. "Oh, Olaf, I think I've made a _terrible_ mistake!"

"Why? What did you do?" he said curiously.

Her mind was whirling. _If it's true— _"Come on, Olaf," she said anxiously, standing up. "We've got to find Anna."

"Hooray!" the snowman cried as his creator turned sharply back the way she'd come, clearly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "Let's go find Anna!" He skipped off down the hallway after her, trying to keep up with the Queen's hurried pace.

* * *

Though monarchs weren't supposed to run, Elsa was nearly tripping over her dress by the time she reached the royal chambers' hallway. Just as they rounded the corner to Anna's room, Elsa stopped suddenly. Olaf didn't notice she'd quit walking until he bumped headlong into a woman's skirt.

"Oh! Olaf, I'm sorry!" Gerda said, hastily taking a step back. Then, "Queen Elsa, thank goodness you're still here! We need to speak with you!" Kai and Willum nodded urgently behind her.

"I'll be able to help you shortly, but right now I have something I need to do," Elsa told them firmly.

"Hey, has anyone seen Anna?" a voice asked, and Elsa looked beyond the trio to see Kristoff quickly coming up the hall.

"I'm looking for her right now," Elsa assured him.

"I'm right here; what's going on?" a voice demanded, and Anna came out of her bedroom.

"Prince Hans was telling the truth," Elsa, Kai, Gerda and Willum all said at the exact same moment. Then they looked at each other and said, "Wait, what?"

"How did you know Hans was telling the truth?" Willum said, brows furrowed.

"Olaf just told me; how did you know?"

The three glanced at each other, and then Kai said, "Your Majesty, if you could come with us, we might be able to clear up this matter. Princess, Sir Kristoff, you should come as well."

"Where are we going?" Anna asked, as all seven quickly set off down the hall.

"To have a long-overdue discussion."

* * *

The great hall seemed eerily quiet without half the village lodging in it. It felt strange to Elsa, who rarely visited it unless there was a ball happening—or a natural disaster, as it were. The silence was making her feel incredibly unnerved, or perhaps it was simply the astounding events of the day, coupled with the alarmingly grave way in which the bishop and her head servants were acting. She waited as patiently as she was able while Kai made very certain that the doors and windows locked tight. By the time he'd finally rejoined the rest of the group around the thrones, she found she'd run out of patience. "Would someone _please_ tell me what in the world is going on?" she demanded.

The trio looked at each other, as if unsure who should speak first. "M'lady," Gerda said uncomfortably. "I think it may be time to tell you something…something we should have told you a long time ago."

"Tell me? Tell me what?" Elsa said, frowning deeply.

They glanced at each other again, and Elsa felt her frustration grow—along with her migraine. Kai sighed lowly. "Your Majesty, you may want to sit down."

Although she wanted to object, Elsa took a seat in her throne. Anna and Kristoff stood off to the side, each as confused as the queen. "So…you guys know why Hans suddenly has magic fire powers?" Anna questioned.

"We may," Willum admitted with a sigh tinged with guilt. "Queen Elsa…have you ever heard the legend of the Devil's Mirror?"

"Of course," she said, baffled. "Everyone has: _In times long gone and times long past, the Devil's work created glass of kind and nature most profane. _Mama used to tell it to us when we were little."

Willum grimaced. "Your Majesty…the legend is not a legend."

Elsa, Kristoff and Anna all stared. Anna was the first to break the silence. "Wait, what?"

"The stories are true," Gerda explained. "At least, as far as we know. The Snow Queen is not a myth, she is very real. A peasant girl tricked by Evil into collecting the many shards of the broken mirror."

"But that's impossible; those stories are hundreds of years old!" Elsa argued.

"Indeed they are," Willum agreed tiredly. "If the legends are accurate, then the Snow Queen could easily be nearly a thousand years of age."

Elsa stared at them. "Have you all gone insane?" she demanded. "They're—they're stories, simple fairy tales! Nursery rhymes for children! What do they have to do with _anything_ that's happened today?"

"We're not insane, m'Lady," Gerda said heavily. "The Snow Queen does exist, and we have good reason to believe those stories have _everything_ to do with what's happened today."

"And how would you know?" Elsa said irritably.

Gerda glanced at Kai and gave him gentle squeeze of the hand. The manservant took a deep breath. "We know, your Majesty…because we have seen her."

Elsa's mouth dropped open_. "What?"_

"When I was a boy, a piece of the mirror became lodged in my eye," Kai continued, albeit with difficulty. "The Snow Queen kidnapped me and took me to her palace, but Gerda came after me and rescued me. When we returned home to Arendelle, I thought that was the last we'd ever see of her."

"But we were wrong," Gerda said with regret. "The Queen, your mother, took us on as help when you were born. I, as your nursemaid, was entrusted with your protection. M'lady…I beg your forgiveness. I failed you."

Elsa's mouth was still open, but she didn't seem able to speak. Gerda continued sadly, "I turned away for only a moment, but in that time, the Snow Queen entered your nursery and pierced you with a shard from the mirror. That was what gave you your powers."

"My powers?" she whispered. As if summoned by the words, frost began to creep up along the arms of her throne.

"That shard has remained inside you always, giving you the abilities you possess," Willum concluded. "I imagine the prince's story is similar."

"How– why–" She struggled to form a coherent thought, getting to her feet. Frost was spreading up the walls; snow was beginning to drift down. "This can't be true. You're lying–"

"Your Majesty, please, see sense!" the bishop said emphatically. "Hasn't everything we've said, everything that's happened—why, everything you yourself have ever known!—doesn't it all fit?"

"No," she said, shaking her head wildly. "Papa—Papa said I was born with these powers. He told me so himself."

"We wanted to tell you the truth, m'lady, but your parents forbade us," said Gerda unhappily. "Your father made us swear an oath."

"Y-you're wrong. Papa—he wouldn't do that." _Conceal. Don't feel. You're losing control again!_

"Why would our parents lie to us?" Anna demanded.

"They were only trying to protect you," said Kai wearily.

"Protect me?! Protect me from _what?!"_ Elsa shouted, finally losing her temper. Icicles shot out from her hands, covering the floor around her, and she only grew angrier at the sight. "From that?" she cried, pointing towards the ice. "From _myself? _What did he think that would accomplish? Did they think I would grow up believing I was _normal, _that I wasn't _cursed?"_

"M'lady, please," Gerda begged.

"Well that didn't exactly work out, now did it?!" she demanded furiously, gesturing around to the ice-covered hall. "I froze over the entire kingdom, nearly killed my own sister, went my whole life being _lied_ to—for _what?!"_

"Your Majesty–" Kai began, but she cut him off.

"No! I've heard enough. Don't talk to me, any of you!" She turned to go, ice sprouting with each footstep.

"Elsa, please, just listen to them!" Anna pleaded

The Queen swept out of the room, icicles shooting through the cracks between the doors as she slammed them shut. The snow in the air drifted to the ground, falling lightly on the arms and heads of the rest of the group.

"Well," Kristoff remarked, speaking for the first time since the conversation had begun. "That could have gone better."


	34. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: To the commenter who keeps leaving their own chapters in my reviews: I'm sorry to keep deleting them, but a comment section is generally not the best place to post a new story. Why not make an account of your own here on the site? That way other readers would be able to read your story and leave comments and reviews. :)**

**To the commenter who seems confused by the differences between Elsa and the Snow Queen: Elsa is the lovable ice-casting monarch we all know and love from the franchise; the Snow Queen is the original antagonist from Hans Christian Andersen's fairytale "The Snow Queen," and in this story she serves as the villain and the sorceress who gave Elsa and Hans their magic. I hope that clears things up.**

**Also: Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Anna tapped quietly on the door, and then gently pushed it open when she received no answer.

Elsa was exactly where she'd expected her to be: on the bench beneath the portrait of St. Jeanne d'Arc. After finding that her elder sister was not in her room, Anna had gone to the one place she herself had always sought refuge from her loneliness: that was, the picture room. Snowdrifts had appeared all around against the walls, and ice had coated the bench on which Elsa was sitting.

The queen didn't look up as her sister approached, but instead remained curled up in her seat, hugging her legs with her face buried in her knees. Anna sat down quietly beside her, and Elsa glanced over briefly through red-rimmed eyes as she realized the presence of another human being, before going back to her quiet crying.

For a long time, they sat in silence, before Anna finally decided to brave the unknown. She was just opening her mouth to speak when Elsa mumbled, "You shouldn't be in here; you might catch cold."

"I don't mind it." She looked around at the snowflakes hanging in the frozen air. "It's actually sort of pretty."

"It's a curse," Elsa said bitterly.

"Yeah, maybe," Anna agreed. "But…I don't know, sometimes good things can come out of bad things, can't they?"

Elsa didn't answer. Anna bit her lip, trying to find some way to get through to her. She glanced up at Joan, and suddenly, inspiration struck. "You know, I always really liked this painting."

"W-what?" Elsa stammered hoarsely, looking over.

"Yeah. She was my favorite one to talk to when I was a kid. I mean, not that she ever talked back, but that's beside the point." She looked over at her older sister and said, "She reminded me of you."

Elsa didn't answer to that, instead staring wordlessly ahead. Anna decided to continue. "I asked her once why my big sister had shut me out for so long, and what I should do to make her open up again." Anna looked up at the painting. "Joan didn't answer, of course, but she didn't really have to; I got the message."

"And what was that?" Elsa asked dully.

"That sometimes, life gives us battles, and we don't always know why," Anna said simply. "But we can't just give up—because if we do, we've already lost. And so I never gave up on you."

Elsa looked over at her, stunned. "Anna…"

"I know now why you shut me out, even though I wish you hadn't. And it's the same reason Mama and Papa kept this from you for so long: because they _loved_ you." Her blue-green eyes were serious and kind. "They did, Elsa, I _promise_ you. They just didn't always go about it the right way."

Elsa said nothing for a long moment. Then, she put her feet down to the ground and sighed. "I know they loved me. I do," she said wearily. _"_I just—I don't understand. _Why_ wouldn't they tell me? What good did they think it would do?"

Anna shrugged. "Sometimes when we really love somebody, we try so hard to make them happy, or keep them safe, that we don't always realize we're not doing what's best for them."

Elsa didn't respond to that, instead looking around the room miserably. "Anna…I don't know what to do."

"About what?"

"Me. This." She waved her hand, and a little spiral of snowflakes appeared. Elsa sighed. "I thought I'd finally found the answer. That I could…make beauty, out of this." Her eyes brimmed with sudden, hot tears. "But it turns out it's evil, and foul, and _wrong. _Just like I always thought."

But Anna reached out and took her hand. Elsa tried to pull away instinctively, but Anna gripped her fingers gently, forcing her sister to meet her eyes.

"Maybe it started out that way," Anna agreed. Elsa's blue eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Maybe this _was_ a curse, back then. Maybe that's what the Snow Queen wanted it to be for you. But good things come out of bad all the time!" She looked dead into her sister's eyes and insisted: "The curse didn't beat you, Elsa. _You _beat _it. _You beat it so far that you turned into a _good _thing!" She grinned. "And I bet that's the _last_ thing the Snow Queen wanted!"

Her smile, as always, was infectuous. Elsa gave a watery smile back. "Love will thaw?"

"Exactly."

Elsa wiped her eyes with a chuckle. "So," she said, looking around the room. "Now what?"

"Well…" Anna said carefully. "You did kind of run out on us… maybe you should give the others a chance to explain things a little better."

Elsa nodded and got to her feet, a little shakily. "Thank you," she told Anna. "For coming after me, I mean."

Anna grinned and stood. "I'll never stop coming after you, Elsa; don't ever forget that."

The queen gave a choked laugh and pulled her into a hug. "I know."

* * *

The bishop, footman and housekeeper all looked over as the doors to the throne room opened again, and Elsa walked in with Anna at her side, red-eyed but seeming more at peace than before. "First off, I want to apologize," she said, before any of them could speak. "I didn't really give any of you much chance to explain things."

"The apology is entirely ours," Willum answered, with sincere regret in his voice. "You must understand, Elsa, we swore an oath to your father that we'd take this to our graves. I know that's hardly an excuse, but we—none of us—knew what to do. There were so many times we wanted to tell you…"

"I know. And I understand why you felt you couldn't," Elsa said graciously, sitting down again in her throne. "What's done is done; there's no point in dwelling on the past."

Kai exhaled in relief as Gerda said gratefully, "Thank you, m'Lady. We are all indebted to your kindness."

"You said Mama and Papa were trying to protect me," Elsa questioned. "Protect me from what, exactly?"

"Your parents wanted you to accept your powers without question," the bishop surmised. "They were afraid if you knew they came from an actual curse, you would go off on your own looking for answers, falling in with sorcerers and magicians, dangerous people—or worse, that you might seek out the Snow Queen herself and ask her to take the curse away. However difficult it may have been, both you and Arendelle were safer with the shard in your hands than in hers."

"If she's searching for the shards, why would she give me one in the first place?" Elsa pointed out.

"I don't remember much from the days when I was imprisoned, but I do remember that the pieces of the mirror are drawn to each other," Kai answered. "It seems she wanted a walking agent in a position of power, therefore all the more likely to come into contact with other shards and collect them."

"Seeing as how I rarely left the castle until now, that didn't turn out as planned," the Queen reasoned. "But why hasn't she come after me now to get it back?"

"She couldn't. When your father locked the gates, he made the wise decision to build a chapel within the palace walls," Willum explained. "Due to that, the whole castle became sanctified territory—an effect for which we are very lucky. Nor did she account for the power of a child's baptism," he reminded her. "The graces conferred are many and vast, but they did expel the darkness the shard brought to your heart."

"So this…isn't evil?" Elsa asked cautiously.

"No, not anymore. Power isn't inherently evil, your Majesty; at your baptism, the fragment of the Devil's Mirror was purified from its unholy taint, and you were left with innocent magic—difficult, I daresay, for a mere human to manage, but not inherently corrupt."

"Corrupt? What do you mean, corrupt?" Anna interjected.

"Ordinarily, the pieces of the Devi's Mirror carry an evil about them that turns the heart hard," said Kai grimly. "I myself became very cold, very bitter. It diminishes your freedom and willpower little by little, until you see no point in being good. Until now, I assumed there was only one sort of shard, those fashioned after ice—but the events of today have proved me wrong."

"You mean Hans…?" Elsa said, her eyes widening.

"That is what we suspect, yes," Gerda agreed. "We think he may have been cursed by the Snow Queen, much as you were, your Majesty."

"He was saying something like that when we were up by the altar," Kristoff remembered. "It could be possible."

"Alright, so let's assume for a moment that Hans was telling the truth," Elsa said, rubbing her temples. "How does King Agnar fit into all this? I highly doubt that all this happening at once is a coincidence."

"King Agnar?" Gerda said, confused.

"He was the one who blackmailed Hans into proposing, on threat of war," Elsa explained. "The whole engagement has been an act."

"My goodness," Gerda murmured, looking startled. "And none of us guessed a thing…"

"Willum knew," Elsa corrected. "He's known since nearly the beginning."

"Well for goodness' sake, Willum, why didn't you say anything?" Kai demanded, aghast.

"He couldn't; Hans told it to him under strict confidence," Elsa explained. "We thought the less people who knew, the lower the risk; now I'm not so sure it helped at all."

"If the legends are all true, then the mirror was forged from hatred," Willum supplied. "It would make sense, then, that hatred would serve to draw the pieces closer together. Could the Southern King and the Snow Queen have been collaborating toward that end?"

"If the Snow Queen and King Agnar were working together, forcing Hans and I into an arranged betrothal could have created that sort of anger and tension," Elsa said, frowning in concentration. "Their plan backfired when Hans and I pretended to go along with the marriage, so she must have instigated the blizzard to cause further distress."

"But that still doesn't explain Hans's powers," Anna pointed out.

"He said that she cursed him, but with what Kai and Gerda said, there should have been some sort of indication, some sort of–" She stopped suddenly. "His hair. Of course."

"What about his hair?" the princess said, confused.

"He's the only redhead, haven't you noticed? All his brothers have brown hair—all except him. Perhaps he's been like this ever since he was a child."

"So he lied?" Kristoff questioned.

"No, I don't think so. I don't think he even knew. He said his father always made him and his brothers wear gloves, and-"

"His brothers!" Anna exclaimed suddenly. "His brothers all shut him out for no good reason, he told me so himself!"

"I as well. Perhaps they all knew–"

"And he didn't," everyone else finished at the same time.

They all fell silent as this sunk in. "Well, as far as I can see," said Willum frankly, "this is all still speculation, and there's only one way to solve this convoluted mess: one of us has to talk to Hans."

A pregnant pause filled the air, before Elsa sighed. "I'll do it. If we're wrong about _any_ of this, then Hans could theoretically still be out to kill us. I'm the only one who can handle him."

"We don't know if he's even awake yet," Anna said, frowning. "You froze him pretty strong."

"Then I'll wait until tomorrow, at least. I'm glad now I didn't agree to execute him."

"What?" several of them said at once.

Elsa realized she'd neglected to tell them about what the Southern king had proposed. "Agnar wanted me to execute Hans—today, actually. If he's working with the Snow Queen, then–" She stopped. "Oh, _no."_

"What?" Anna demanded.

She looked over at her sister, face pale. "King Agnar. I threw him out of the castle."

* * *

The settled snow and ice crunched under his boots as the Southern king made his way through the forest path. He came to a clearing that seemed familiar to him, but it was empty. He looked around as if searching for something.

"King Agnar."

He turned. The Snow Queen stood to his right, the red light of dusk glinting off her snowy cape like a thousand glowing sparks. "I can only assume that since you do not come with a smirk on your face, you have failed," she said coldly.

"Not entirely," he said, voice short and clipped. "I did find the third missing shard." He removed the silver box from his jacket and undid the clasp, removing the bluish fragment. The sorceress uncurled her snow-white hand, and he placed it into her palm. As soon as he relinquished it, she withdrew her fingers and tucked it safely away within her cloak.

"Your brother is not dead," she surmised.

His lip curled. "We overestimated the Queen. She is a greater fool than at first I thought."

"Obviously. That was an obstacle _you _were meant to overcome." He ground his teeth at her words but wisely remained silent. "However…you did not fail entirely. So my patience will endure. For now." She paced a few meters away. "Where is your brother now?"

"In the palace dungeons, your Majesty."

She snorted. "That was indeed foolish. If the Queen herself could break out of them in a moment of panic, certainly your brother will be able to do so, as well. And that is to our advantage."

"My Queen?" Agnar questioned, confused.

"I have concluded that attempting to make the Arendellian Queen kill him is a useless effort. She is of weak and simple mind, and weak and simple minds often falter at the opportune moment. I will have to convince Hans myself to hand over the shard, but first he needs to leave that blasted place. I can't imagine it'll take him long."

"Your Majesty," Agnar said, by now impatient, "Surely this is the time to allow me my part of our agreement! I have been banished from the castle; what else is there to wait for?"

"You are an impulsive man, King Agnar, though of course most men are," she replied dismissively. "One misstep could ruin all our efforts. You must wait until my orders, and then, and _only_ then, will you be allowed to use the mirror's powers. Am I clear?"

He curled his hands into fists, but managed to bite back the retorts that rose to his lips. "You are…my Queen."

"Very good. Now: there is an abandoned cabin nearby, due north of this place. Wait there until you receive my notice. It should not take more than a day or two. And make haste; we wouldn't want you catching cold." With that, she walked off into the trees. A few moments later, Agnar heard the pounding tramp of horse's hooves.

Still smarting with fury, he started the long, chilly trek through the forest towards the north, muttering all the while.

* * *

"I thought I might find you up here."

Elsa looked over, startled. She was standing beside the rail in chapel's choir loft overlooking the rest of the church, which was still covered in fractured ice, marred here and there by scorch marks searing the floor and pews. Willum raised an eyebrow back, and the queen pursed her lips. "You came looking for me." It wasn't a question.

The bishop came over and sat down in the nearest pew. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, it's nice to know I haven't been dabbling in the occult for the last year and a half," his monarch answered dryly.

"Believe me, my queen, I would have informed you much sooner had that been the case." Elsa didn't reply. "You're angry with us," the bishop inferred.

"I'll get over it."

"Ahh. So, not with us, then."

Silence filled the chapel. Willum looked around the darkened church.

"You know," he murmured, "This is where I first found him, too. Seemed to think he wasn't worthy of sitting with the others."

Elsa sighed irritably, knowing to whom he had to be referring. "Willum, I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Then why are you here?"

She didn't have an answer to that, and so she just looked back out at the vandalized sanctuary. Willum bit his tongue, and then said, "My Queen… I may just be an old bishop, but I think I know a broken and confused heart when I see one."

Her eyes flew wide in shock, and she looked over. "How did you-"

"To be quite frank, your Majesty, you've had a very long day, yet you're up at some unholy hour of the night, and as to the chapel—well, as they say, hell hath no fury." He gave her a rueful smile as he nodded towards the vandalized nave below, and Elsa flushed.

"What exactly am I supposed to do, Willum?" she demanded, visibly conflicted. "Forgive him? After what he's done?"

"Well, it would be the right thing to do," the bishop pointed out.

She looked back out to the empty church. "I know," she admitted softly "I know that, I just… I don't know _how._ After everything he's done to me, done to _Anna…_ And yet…"

"And yet?" Willum prodded.

"And yet, he's done so many good things, too." She paused, and then shook her head and said angrily. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that he's a criminal! He tried to _kill _me, Willum! How am I supposed to forgive a man like that?"

"You are angry at him for trying to kill you?"

"Of course I am! What else would I be angry at him for?"

Willum fixed her with his steady gray gaze, and Elsa realized she was wrong. "No," she said honestly. "It's more than that. And it's more than what he did to Anna."

"He broke your trust somehow?"

She sat down in the pew beside him. "He saved me," she said softly. "When- when they came for me, in my ice palace… I fought back. I know everyone believes it was self-defense, and it was, but there was a point…a point when I almost crossed that line." Her pale hands were trembling; frost swirled across the hardwood floor. "I was—_so angry,_ Willum. I was so furious with them for treating me like some sort of monster, that I almost _became_ one."

"He stopped you," the bishop inferred gently.

Elsa nodded. "He saved my life… and saved me from myself." Those trembling hands curled into fists. "And then, on the fjord, he—he lied to me. He _betrayed_ me. He made me believe again that I was evil, that I'd killed my own sister. That I was a monster. And I hate him for that, hate him enough that at the first, most illusory suggestion of betrayal, I- I tried to kill him." She buried her head in her hands and moaned, "What kind of a hypocrite am I?"

"Your anger towards him is linked with your anger towards yourself," said Willum sagely. "Sometimes it is our inability to forgive ourselves that makes it difficult to forgive those around us. We like to turn our attentions to the faults of others before our own. I don't say this to condemn you, my dear," he added, seeing how she looked at him in surprise, "but rather because I know I do the same thing myself. It's the human condition."

"I abandoned Arendelle when it needed me most. I hurt Anna, betrayed my people, turned my back on my sacred duties!" Her expression was wracked with distress. "I almost murdered two people, whatever may have driven me to it. I broke the trust of _everyone_ around me. If Hans isn't the villain in that story, then _I am._ And I—I don't want to face that."

His eyes were serious, yet understanding. "My Queen, if you ever want to move past this, you will have to reconcile yourself to the fact that sometimes, people do awful, terrible things. But that does not mean they are _evil people."_

Elsa had fallen silent. Willum hesitated a moment, and then said carefully, "Your Majesty… if I may be so bold, may I ask… do you care for him?"

"…Yes," she breathed, stunned by her own audacity. "Yes, I do, or I think I do, but—but I can't love him, Willum, I can't. There's a part of me that's still so angry with him, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Queen Elsa, we cannot always control what we feel, but we can control what we do about those feelings. Anger is an emotion, but hatred is a choice. And so, I'll remind you, is love. Love and hatred cannot coexist; eventually, one will overtake the other. Hatred enslaves us, and love sets us free."

"Which is stronger?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well that, my dear, depends entirely on you."

The bishop's meaning was clear, and Elsa found she didn't have any reply. Willum smiled kindly and said, "Well, my Queen, I believe that's enough philosophy for tonight. If you would like me to treat this as a confidential manner…?"

"Yes, thank you," she said with relief. The bishop raised a hand, and she bowed her head as he murmured a brief prayer. When he had finished, both stood, and Willum said, "I suggest you get some rest and then go speak to the prince tomorrow, yes?"

She nodded grudgingly and got to her feet, as well. "That…sounds reasonable…I just wish it weren't so difficult."

"Well, humility is never easy, my dear, but it is worth it. Have a good rest of your evening."

"I'll try. Goodnight, Willum." She headed over to the staircase.

Just as she was about to descend the stairs, she heard him say, "Your Majesty… Elsa." The Queen turned, startled. Willum hesitated, and then said, "…Each of us carries a curse of some sort. Some are born sickly, or to impoverished families; others have quieter struggles of vanity, envy or anger… yours is more obvious than most, and more potent, but that doesn't change your good nature. Remember that you are not defined by the ice of your curse, but by the warmth of your heart."

Elsa managed to smile a little at that, as though a small portion of the weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "…Thank you, Willum." Without waiting another moment, she disappeared down the stairs into the nave below.

* * *

Hans let out a low sigh and stood up again, before sitting down once more for what felt like the millionth time in a row.

He couldn't help but appreciate the irony. Eighteen months ago, it had been Elsa sitting here, hands encased in iron. He raised a hand and looked at the cuffs. They'd been remade—why, he didn't know. Perhaps Elsa had been worried about losing control again. Perhaps she'd thought it useful to have such restraints around, just in case. In any event, it was certainly effective.

He shivered slightly and pulled his arms in closer around him. It was freezing in the cell, or perhaps he was just warm. That would make sense, he supposed, for a man with fire in his veins.

It seemed impossible. How could this have happened? The Snow Queen; she must have done this somehow, years and years ago. Cursed him…like Elsa was cursed? And the mirror shards had something to do with it all, myth and legend and bedtime stories come to life. This was all so baffling…not to mention terrifying. He remembered all too well what Elsa was capable of in a moment of panic; images of what a man like _him_ could do with such a power flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed them shut tight, trying to stop the visions of burning villages and screaming peasants.

He had to get out. He had to leave, before he hurt anyone, especially Elsa. The fight in the church… that could have easily gone the other way. He could have won; he'd been trying to win, after all. _I slipped back into the mold. _Something in his mind had handed him back the familiar pattern of rage and ruthlessness, and it had fit like an old glove. And the look in her eyes…she'd called him a monster. He couldn't blame her.

Well, monster or not, one thing was for certain, and that was that he couldn't stay in the castle. Everyone certainly thought by now that he was as traitorous and malicious as he'd always been; if Elsa did agree to execute him, he'd never leave the town alive. A man with his abilities was dangerous; he would be noticed, followed. He had to go before he caused any real damage, and he had to find the Snow Queen, convince her to take back his curse. That was the only solution.

But first, he had to get free. If only he were out of these damned cuffs. He wondered how Elsa had gotten free; hadn't she shattered them? But no doubt she'd reinforced them for such purposes. Even so, ice would have been more helpful. It was certainly more constructive; how very fitting that his power was only destructive. Ice could create, create things of great beauty and wonder. What could fire do, save for burn and melt and-

_Melt._

Of course. Everything had a melting point; the real question was if he could get his hands hot enough to liquefy solid iron. Was it even safe? How much heat could he handle? He'd never been burned before, but he had no desire to experience injuries the degree of sticking one's own flesh into a pot of boiling metal. Still, it was worth a shot.

He closed his eyes again and concentrated as hard as he could, unsure if it would even work. However, he felt a slight tingling in his fingertips, and the barest traces of heat, so he suspected it was working.

Hans focused even harder, gritting his teeth. The heat grew, but it did not harm him—in fact, it felt good. Hotter and hotter still, until he was sure it would harm a normal human being, but he felt no pain, only pleasant warmth.

The cuffs seemed to be growing tighter on the inside and larger on the outside; the metal must have been expanding. It began to glow, cherry-red at first, then bronze-gold. The molten iron began to fall off in great globs, hissing as it struck the cold stone floor and cracking it with sharp _pops!_ He could see the flames around his hands now, glowing bright and dancing, hungry for something to feed on.

Quickly, he hurried to the window and pressed his hands against the glass. It melted easily, and he made a hole large enough to step through. Once he had, he extinguished the flames by releasing the force of will that had kept them alive. The fire vanished, and the icy chill of December returned.

He touched the side of his suit-coat and was pleased to find that it left no scorch; apparently his hands had cooled at will. _Okay. This is easier than it looks, at least._ Picking up his sword and re-sheathing it, he clambered through the hole, out of the prison cell and into the world beyond. For a brief moment, something welled up inside him, deep and melancholy. He'd come, somehow, to think of the palace as a home, even in the short time he'd been there.

_A home?_ He snorted, chastising himself internally. Sentimentalism was not an ally tonight; he needed to go, now, before someone realized he was missing.

He stepped forward onto the crunching snow, and then paused and looked back. On the floor of the cell, his silver crown glimmered dully in the dim light. He looked up at the castle towers.

_You'd be good at it. This is what you were born for. Everything you want is right here…_

"I can hear you," he said aloud. No wordless voice answered back. It didn't have to. "I know what you are now. You won't get me that easily."

Without wasting another moment, the prince turned his back and fled into the night.

* * *

Elsa sighed. The halls were empty so late in the night, and she paced them alone. Despite Willum's wise counsel, she found she couldn't sleep a wink, tossing and turning restlessly as she thought about what she had to do until she'd given up and taken to wandering the castle.

She'd been so quick to condemn Hans there in the chapel—too quick, she knew, if she were being honest with herself. And although she didn't want to admit it, she knew Willum was right about the reason why.

It was going to be…painful, to say the least, to admit she'd been wrong, especially admitting it to his face. She ground her teeth, imagining his smugly raised eyebrows and sardonic, "You don't say?" as she acknowledged how mistaken she'd been. It just didn't seem _fair,_ she fumed. After everything he'd done, why should she have to apologize to him for _anything?_

…But in the end, she knew, they were not all that different. They both knew what it was like to… to feel monstrous. They'd both nearly done something unspeakably awful. They'd both been stopped. How could Elsa possibly condemn him and yet pardon herself? It was hypocrisy, the worst sort. It was beneath her. It was just plain _wrong._

But it was just so _difficult_ to face the truth.

Sighing, she to a nearby window, looking out as the northern lights danced over her frozen country. Green light flared and was flanked by rose. And then, of course, there was love. Once blame and guilt were out of the way, love would come easier still. And what was she supposed to do with that? They had _history, _literal, textbook _history. _There were no two ways around it: any courtship between them was going to be messy, both politically and emotionally. And Anna…_how_ could she explain this to Anna?

At the edges of the empty streets, the prince paused and looked up into the same sky. The ice in the air seemed to sing, and his bare hands stung with cold. The flames slowly crept along his reddening fingers.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh…_

Love. _That_ was dangerous magic, all on its own.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh, oh-oh…_

**"I can hear you,"** he muttered, stalking forward, **"but I won't."**

_"Some look for trouble."_ She sparked a snowflake. _"While others others don't."_

**"There's a thousand reasons I should go about my way–"**

_"–And ignore your whispers, which I wish would go away."_

_**"Oh-oh-oh."**_

_Ah-ah, oh-oh_  
The crocus flags of Arendelle were flying at his back. He ignored them.

_**"Oh-oh…"**_  
_Ah-ah, oh-oh_

She stalked through the halls. _"You're not a voice,"_ she insisted.

The flames guttered from between his clenched fingers. **"You're just a ringing in my ear.**  
**And if I heard you—which I don't—"**

_"—I'm spoken for, I fear."_ The family portrait of herself, Anna and Kristoff loomed in front of her. _"Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls."_

**"So sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls!"**

_**"I've had my adventure, I don't need something new. I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I'd follow you–"**_

A fiery hand caught his shoulder.

**"Into the unknown!"**

The forest was filled with familiar figures of flame.

_"Into the unknown!"_

Ice fractaled beneath her running feet.

_**"Into the unknown!"**_

The Elsa-figure touched his cheek with a wry smile. He stared—and then drew his sword.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh_

She slammed the door behind her as snow spiraled.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh,_

The Elsa-figure smiled a jagged smile, flared—and revealed a wicked youth in a crown.

_Oh, oh…_

_"What do you want?"_ She paced to the window; it frosted where she touched it. _"'Cause you've been keeping me awake."_

**"Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?"** He shook off the fiery hands that caught at his coat.

_"Or are you someone out there,"_ she turned, _"who's a little bit like me?"_

**"Who knows deep down,"** the sword flashed, **"I'm not who I'm meant to be?"**

_**"Every day's a little harder–"** _The snow swirled faster, _**"as I feel this power grow."**_

He pleaded with them: _**"Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go–"**_

_**"Into the unknown!"** _The road flanked with flaming pews; the bishop and his queen waited with his crown.

_**"Into the unknown!"** _The snowy figure spun her around as she laughed.

_**"Into the unknown!"**_

They ran.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh  
Ah-ah, oh-oh_

_**"Oh-oh-oh!"**_

He slashed through. **"Are you out there?"**

She flung the door. "_Do you know me?"_

**"Do you hear me?"**

_"Will you show me?"_

_Ah-ah, oh-oh_

_Ah-ah, oh-oh_

Rosemåling frost chased after her as she raced through the halls.

_Ah-ah, oh-oh__  
__Ah-ah, oh-oh_

Adulating faces pursued.

_Oh-oh, oh-oh_

A slipper was lost on the stairs.

_Oh-oh, oh-oh_

He lost his sword to the snow.

_Oh-oh, oh-oh_  
_Oh-oh, oh-oh_

_**"It burns here inside, somehow I've always known! **__**How do I follow you–"**_

She wrenched open the cell door.

**"Into the unknown!"**

Elsa stood and stared in shock, her nightdress fluttering in the chill from the broken window into the empty cell.

(_Oh-oh-oh…_)

* * *

**A/N: I wasn't sure about substituting "Into the Unknown" for the flight song, as you might remember it was a version of "Let it Go" in the original upload of this story; however, I think it worked.**

**Merry Christmas again! I'll be uploading four chapters today for the holiday! God bless you all, and p_ax et bonum!_**


	35. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

"No sign of him, your Majesty."

At these words, Elsa sank faintly into her desk chair, a low breath escaping her mouth. Anna looked on with worry. Her elder sister had come rushing into her room at the break of dawn, frantically shaking her awake and babbling on so fast that for once Anna had to ask her to slow down, instead of the other way around. Finally, she'd managed to gather that Hans had escaped his prison cell and was now who-knew-where doing who-knew-what, possibly in danger and most certainly an unwitting threat. Since then, she, her sister and Kristoff had been anxiously awaiting the return of the search party the Queen had sent out that morning.

Elsa was clearly in a bad state; she'd gotten no sleep the night before, and despite her sister's urgings, she hadn't eaten anything nor slept at all during the day. Her face was dangerously pale, even for her, and the rings had returned under her eyes. She clutched to her chest a black leather hymnal, and frost covered the library floor beneath her chair in haywire swirls. "You're sure?" she said to the guard, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

"Quite sure, your Majesty. We've searched the entire town and the surrounding farmsteads and forest."

She nodded, looking exhausted and very worried. "Very well. Extend the search to the towns south of here, specifically those along the seaboard."

"Yes, your Majesty," the guards agreed, and with a quick bow, they exited the library, leaving only the queen, her sister and the ice master.

"The seaboard towns?" Kristoff questioned. Elsa had requested his presence, which Anna thought wise since the man generally had a calming air about him.

Elsa ran her free hand through her hair, distressed. "Hans is too smart to repeat my mistakes. He wouldn't have risked going anywhere permanently; he'd know his safest option would be to get on a ship and leave Arendelle altogether."

"What if he's already gone?" Anna questioned aloud. Elsa looked at her with fear in her eyes, and she quickly added, "But he probably hasn't. I mean, nobody in their right mind would be sailing this time of the year anyway, so he's probably still… here…" She trailed off awkwardly.

"You're right," the queen said, as calmly as she could manage. "We just have to... keep up hope."

She was clearly in distress; snow had started to drift lightly from the ceiling as she stood and walked to the windows, looking out at the snow-covered bridge that connected the castle to the mainland. The sun was beginning to set again, heightening her fear that the prince wouldn't be found. Anna followed her over and laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Elsa, maybe you should take a break- go eat something or read a book," she advised. "You didn't even have lunch; you need to rest-"

"No. I have to stay here."

"Elsa, this isn't your fault!" her sister said emphatically.

"How is it not my fault?" Elsa said, upset. "I attacked him, I nearly killed him…"

"Well in your defense, you did think he'd betrayed you and was about to murder you with his scary magic fire-powers-"

"Anna." Her voice was dead serious as she turned to her, blue eyes full of guilt. "I called him a _monster."_

Anna fell silent, stunned. She knew the _M_ word carried a lot of weight with Elsa. Her elder sister turned back to looking out the window, as if hoping the prince would suddenly appear on the other side of the gate.

"Elsa," the Queen heard Kristoff say from behind her. "You know Hans better than any of us. If you were him, what would you be doing right now?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "If I were Hans, unable to control my powers and being hunted down, presumably to be tried and executed... I would do what Hans does with every other problem."

"What's that?"

Elsa's eyes searched the scarlet-lit world beyond the glass, expression grim. "I would try to get rid of it."

* * *

Hans, as it happened, had been walking for a whole night and the better part of the day. He was hungry, exhausted and half-frozen. Although he'd managed to steal a coat off a clothesline (fire magic could only do so much), he had barely eaten or slept for nearing on forty-eight hours or more, running on pure and constant adrenaline. More than anything, he wanted warm food and a decent bed, which meant, of course, that he had to find an inn.

As the sun began to set over the northern country, he came upon a town. It was, in fact, the third such town he had encountered, but he had been too fearful to stop in the first two and had skirted around them. Now, however, the chill had begun to wear on him, fire-powers or no, and moreover he had realized the futility of staying in a country where he was undoubtedly a hunted man.

The sun had slipped below the sea when he finally found a cheap-looking inn and slipped inside. The bar room was musty and poorly lit with oil lamps. Men sat around in bars drinking and speaking in low voices; in the corner, a few were playing some gambling game with dice. Hans noted the distinct lack of women in the establishment and gathered that this was not a place known for its good repute. Well, never mind that; with his new little _talent,_ he didn't doubt he could single-handedly withstand anyone who decided to attack him.

That was another problem, but one he'd deal with after securing a way out of Arendelle. He turned up the edges of his collar and ducked his head as he approached the bar and took a seat on one of the stools, just beside an old man. The barkeep, a larger man with what appeared to be only one good eye (the other was clearly glass and didn't quite match in color), walked over, wiping out the inside of a pint. "Whaddaya want?"

"I need food and a room for the night," he answered, intentionally lowering his voice to disguise it.

"Ten kroner, more depending on what you order for food."

Hans was about to nod, before he realized something quite significant: all of the gold he'd had on him was in the jacket the footmen had taken from him before the wedding. "…I don't have any money."

The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Then you're not getting any food, and you're definitely not staying the night."

"Please, have a little pity; I'm starving and dead-tired," he said wearily.

"Pity doesn't run a business, son. Go on now; don't make me call the authorities."

The prince let out a low sigh and stood up. He was about to go when the man beside him said, "Now hold on; I've got a few extra kroner here. I can pay for 'im." He dug a few coins out of his pocket and held them out. "Get 'im whatever he wants for food and give 'im a room."

The bartender hesitated, and then took the money reluctantly and said to Hans, "You mentioned something about food?"

"Ham-and-cheese sandwich and a pint, if you can."

"Coming right up." He filled up a pint-glass and handed it to him. Then he disappeared into the kitchen, and Hans heard him shout his order at the cook.

The ex-prince glanced over at the old man uncertainly, and found that he was looking at a man with graying hair in about his mid-fifties. Hans knew instantly that he was a sailor; the man's face was weathered and tanned by years of working on rigging in the harsh sun, his beard was scruffy and cut-short, and his teeth were yellowed as if he hadn't had any dental work done in all his life. Most tellingly, on his right wrist Hans could see the bottom two-thirds or so of a faded tattoo depicting a swallow with a dagger through its heart, and on his left an anchor.

The bartender had returned with the sandwich and a pint. Hans took them and tried to look at the sailor out of the corner of his eyes, unsure what to make of him. "…Thank you," he said finally. "From one sailor to another."

"I'll drink to that." They clinked glasses and each took a draught. "Only a sailor can tell a sailor," the older man added, setting his tankard down.

"I saw the tattoos. My apologies for your loss. A friend of yours?"

"More like a brother. We served together."

"You're a navy man?" Hans said, a little interested.

"Navy in my younger years. Now I'm just a merchant. You?"

"I served two years." He decidedly didn't state _which _navy he'd served in.

The old captain squinted slightly. "You look familiar. Have I seen you before?"

For a split second, Hans panicked. Perhaps the man had been in Arendelle for the coronation the year before, or perhaps he'd seen a drawing in the local newspaper. The prince concealed his worry, however, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "A drink or two makes everyone look familiar. Why, I could almost take you for my grandfather."

The man chuckled at that. "I suppose you're right."

"You said you're a merchant. If you're searching for crewmates, I'm looking to leave. Immediately, as it happens."

"Immediately leave? That must be a strong brew, son; there aren't many men willing to sail the winter seas. Anyways, no one's leaving port in this time a' year, but talk to me in spring, huh?"

More panic; Hans couldn't afford to wait until spring. By then someone surely would have recognized him, and he would be back in the dungeons where he'd started- there or rotting in a criminal's grave. "What about for free?" he said quickly.

"Free?" He looked at him quizzically. "You'd let me hire you for free?"

"Not hire. You've got an anchor tattoo; that means you've crossed the Atlantic. I'd be willing to bet you do trade with the Colonies Across the Sea; am I right?"

"You are. What's it to you?"

"I need safe passage over there. If you can get a crew together in the next few days, I'd work for you all the way over. I'm sure it'd cover my fee—and imagine how pleased the Colonists would be to see goods delivered in the dead of winter. They'd be willing to pay some pretty stiff prices, I'd bet my life on it."

The old captain bit his tongue considering this, and then grunted: "A'right, son, you've got yourself a deal. We leave at dawn."

"Glad to do business with you," Hans said lightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a brief matter to attend to before discussing the details."

"How do I know you won't run off?" the sailor said shrewdly.

"If I do, it's nothing lost to you."

"Fair enough." He went back to nursing his drink.

Hans pulled his cloak tighter around himself and walked out the front inn door, leaving his half-sandwich and pint waiting on the bar counter. He glanced around as he shut the door behind him, and then went around to the back of the establishment.

The sky was clear and covered with the first few evening stars, the air frigid as ice. Hans poked his hands out from under his coat with a shiver and moved them around, willing the fire into existence.

He looked around into the empty back-alleyway, covered in drifts of dirty snow. "I know you caused the blizzard!" he called out into the silence. "And I know you're working with my brother. If you can hear me, I need to speak with you!"

He waited, but received no response save for the breaking of the near-frozen waves on the shore. Feeling rather foolish, he turned to go back inside.

"I would not turn your back to me if I were you, young prince."

He turned, startled. A woman clad in an icy gray-blue dress and covered in a large, snowy cape had appeared, seemingly from nowhere. "You've been following me," Hans said. It wasn't a question.

She walked a few paces forward. "You wished to speak with me?"

"I know you cursed me," he said curtly. "And I know you can take it back."

"Take it back?" Her icy eyes seemed to gleam at that. "You would request that of me?"

"There are gaps in my memory I can't fill. I know I've been like this for a long time, I've worked that much out. What I _don't_ know–" He snapped his fingers, flaring up a candle-flame, "–is why you chose to give this shard to me." Her gaze sharpened. "Oh yes, I worked that out, too. So start talking and _maybe_ we can make a deal."

"You do not give orders to me, young prince."

"I hold the chips." He lifted the flame; the red light gleamed off her greedy eyes. "So yes, just now, I rather think I do."

The Snow Queen eyed him appraisingly, and then swept her hand towards the ground,. All around him, great walls of ice rose from the snow. But no… they weren't quite walls, he realized, for they held reflections in them, like mirrors. But something was wrong with the mirrors: their reflections did not match his own. Instead they were…were…?

_"What are you doing in here?!"_

Hans saw a young, dark-haired boy jump to his feet in front of an old chest, startled. As the boy turned, he realized with shock that it was himself. Barely did he have time to comprehend this, however, before the boy had clasped his hand to his chest in fear, and something- something _burning,_ like a hot coal, was glowing from inside his him, a hole seared through his clothes. The boy's hair flushed red as he cried out in agony and fear, and the man- his father, Hans realized- rushed forward to his younger self, not in concern but in fury, trying to remove the fiery object as he roared at the boy—

_"This isn't right! You can't do this to him!"_

_"I can and I will!"_

It was his mother and father, reflected in a different facet of this many-walled cage. His mother was furious, a hand on his younger self's shoulder. The redheaded boy was clearly frightened; tears rolled down his cheeks. _"Mama!"_ he cried, as flames curled up his hands. _"Mama, make it stop!"_

_"Shh, Hans, it's alright. Mother's here-"_

_"Causing him to forget is the most effective way of hiding his powers,"_ a cold, sharp voice said, and another figure stepped into view. Hans's eyes widened as he realized it was the Snow Queen. _"If you do not, he could in time use his ability to seize his elder brother's throne."_

_"He wouldn't do that,"_ his mother said fiercely, stepping between the witch and her son. _"He's a good child."_

_"There is no such thing as a 'good child.' Now step aside."_

_"You stay away from my son!"_

_"I said, step aside!"_

A blast of ice magic sent his mother sprawling, and the real Hans took a step forward, forgetting it was only an illusion. "Mother!"

_"You cannot hide this from him!"_

He turned instinctively to another mirror and watched as his mother shouted at his father, furious. His father roared in return,_ "With power like that he could ruin everything I've worked for! Is that what you want?!"_

_"He's just a child!"_

_"He's a thief and a burden!"_

_"How dare you speak about your son that way!"_

_"Mama? Papa?"_

Both turned, startled, to see the young boy standing nervously beside the door. _"Is… something wrong?"_

The king stormed out of the room, furious. Hans turned to watch and found himself staring at another scene, this of his younger self standing beside his bedridden mother, who looked sickly and frail. _"Mama?"_ he asked. _"Why are you sick?"_

She let out a soft sigh. _"I'm just tired, Hans."_

_"Get well soon, please? I miss you."_

She smiled, ruffled his auburn hair. _"I miss you too, Hans. I'll try to get better quickly, I promise."_

The grown man and the young boy both reached out to touch the edge of her bed-sheet, but before Hans's fingers could brush the glassy ice, another voice drew his attention away.

_"What do we do with him?"_

He looked to the side, startled. His father and Agnar were standing on a balcony, speaking to the Snow Queen. His father looked older than he remembered, Hans noticed; his once-auburn hair was streaked with gray, and wrinkles were papering his pale skin. But the glint in the eyes was the same. _"He's becoming a nuisance,"_ Agnar chimed in. _"Twice now in six months."_

"_Have you had him use the gloves I brought you?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Good. Send him out to sea; his powers will be weaker there. Once he's come of age, he can return the shard himself."_

Hans watched his father and brother scheme to send him into the naval service, his own bare hands curling into fists. _So. Even that was tainted. _The mirrors flashed and flickered; he caught sight of fire and sucked in a breath, stumbling back and looking at his hands, but they were barely sparking. The fire was coming from the mirrors; he turned and turned again, looking at the six, nine, dozen younger selves, peering in horror or fascination or anger at the flames surrounding their palms.

"_Make it stop! Mother!"_

"_I didn't do this, I don't know what– Don't let me drown, PLEASE–"_

"_I'll kill you! I'll kill you all for what you did to me, Jens!"_

"_YOU'RE NOT TAKING IT AWAY AGAIN! I WON'T LET YOU!"_

He stumbled and fell back against a mirror. Across from him, a nearly identical, frantic self was shaking, collapsed, in his cell. The charred remains of a suitcoat lay around him.

"_I suppose this means we can't hang you."_

"_Agnar, I-I don't know what happened!" _The other him, the him from a year ago, was looking at his hands in terror. _"The noose just—Queen Elsa! You have to write her; she's the only person who can–"_

"_Don't over-exert yourself, brother. You're not going to remember any of this, anyway."_

"_What– What are you–?"_

And one after the other the Snow Queen's shadow loomed beyond the windows, in the doorways, in the halls–

_"Agnar? Aren't you coming?"_

Hans whirled around. In the glass behind him, time seemed to have stilled, pacified. He was now a young man of about seventeen. _"We'll be late for father's funeral."_

The other mirrors fell silent and faded, one by one.

_"I don't see why you're so concerned," _his brother said coldly.

_"It wouldn't be proper. We should all be on time for something as important as this."_

_"I'm surprised you even want to attend. Even if you were to miss, it's not like anyone would notice your absence."_ His voice was harsh and apathetic. _"After all, it's not like father would have wanted you there, anyway."_ He turned to walk down the hall.

This seemed to be the last straw for the younger prince. _"What did I ever do to you?!"_ he demanded, gloved hands clenched into fists.

_"Enough, Hans,"_ Agnar ground out.

_"No, why?! Why do you shut me out?! Why do you all shut me out?! Why do you all _hate_ me so much?!"_

Agnar whirled around, stalked back over. Hans's eyes went wide as he realized he may have gone too far. _"I hate you,"_ Agnar hissed, _"Because you're a worthless thief, Hans. You've stolen _everything_ from me—even mother."_

Those green eyes were now wide with incredulity. _"Mother got sick, Agnar! That wasn't my fault!"_

_"It was your fault. Everything wrong around here is your fault. You take and you take and if we don't stop you, if we don't push you down, you'll do it again."_ He shook his head, green eyes filled with a pure, undiluted loathing. _"Our mother is dead,"_ he spat._ "Because of you." _And with that, he turned and strode off down the hall, leaving his younger brother to stare after him, stunned speechless.

"Ironic, isn't it."

Hans turned one last time, to look the true Snow Queen in the eye.

"So much trouble for one innocent mistake. So much of your life, defined by a mere accident." He didn't answer. "It was never meant to be you, Hans. You were just…collateral damage."

"I see."

"But I have an offer for you," the Snow Queen continued. "This really has nothing to do with you, young prince. You have no obligation to stay here." She saw the way his expression changed, just slightly, and smiled in a way that was almost benevolent. "I can _help_ you, Hans. Without that shard you'll be a free man man, able to live your life however you please. The curse will be lifted, and you will have no more ties to it—or to Arendelle. You can walk away from this…from everything."

Hans's hand rose unconsciously to touch his chest, right above his sternum. He let out a gasp, more of surprise than pain, as a sharp pinprick of fire seemed to burn through the skin under his hand. The blade of something incredibly small yet razor-sharp pierced through the thin white undershirt, and he lowered his hand to find that it was holding what appeared to be a fragment of fiery, glowing glass, identical to the one he'd seen in the mirror.

"All you have to do," the Snow Queen said, stretching out her hand, "is give that shard to me."

He looked up at her, and for a moment—a brief, tantalizingly sweet moment—he considered it. His plan could continue as he'd made it; he could sail away and start over, make a new life for himself, free from curse or crown. Free from _consequences. _Everything could be exactly the way he'd planned.

Then he closed his hand around the shard. "No."

The Snow Queen's kindly look vanished like snow in a blizzard wind. "What?"

"I said no. If you really wanted this shard you would have taken it from me, but you haven't. Why? Because you can't. Because magic has _rules."_ He held it up between his thumb and forefinger. "I know your legend, _Snow Queen._ If one of these is powerful enough to freeze over a small kingdom, I'd hate to see what a thousand of them could do together."

"Your brother was right. You are too clever for your own good."

"Oh, yes, Agnar. I _thought_ it was rather too easy for me to break out of that prison. I'm a selfish bastard, your Majesty, but I'm not stupid; I know my scriptures and my fairy tales. What were you going to do, offer me all the kingdoms of the world? Ask me my true name?" Her pale cheeks were staining red with anger. "You've been very informative, but you thought I was about to make a deal with an ice witch, I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time I be on my way." He turned to go.

"If you're going to leave, I'd suggest you be quick about it," the Snow Queen said, sounding remarkably undisturbed.

That struck him as strange, and he turned around. The Snow Queen was smiling. At the end of alleyway, he could see the faint but growing glow of torchlight on brick. "It seems your sailor friend wasn't as oblivious as you thought," the sorceress added.

Hans's mouth opened for the span of second. Then he turned and ran. The Snow Queen laughed and vanished in a flurry of snowflakes.

The ice on the cobblestone hissed and split where his boots struck the pavement, flames spurting out with every step. He slipped and fell hard on his wrists, gravel grinding into his hands. The glass shard sliced deep into his palm.

"There he is!"

He looked behind him. The guards had reached the end of the alleyway. Sparks swirled about him as he scrambled to his feet, dancing along the cuts in his hands. He dashed down another dark side street, and then a third, the embers leaving a distinct trail behind him. They could follow that, he knew; they'd find him again soon. "Think, think," he muttered to himself. He needed a way to delay them, some sort of distraction, like a defense, a guard–

"He went this way!"

He saw the guards round the corner and latched onto the last idea he'd had. "Come on, come on," he muttered, moving his free hand as if he were stirring the air. A little sphere of fire began to form. He threw the ball to the ground, willing it to transform itself into some Marshmallow-like fire golem. The little ball uncurled, and glowed, and grew- and then it stopped growing.

The miniature fire-being turned to look at him, as if surprised by its own creation. Hans stared. It seemed to be female, with a little candle-like curl of hair and huge golden eyes. It was tiny, no more than two or three feet tall. It was downright _cute._

"You've got to be kidding me," he deadpanned.

The guards had gotten over their momentary surprise, and he heard one of them call, "Go on, what're you waiting for!"

The guards all charged at once, and Hans ran for it, leaving the little fire-being behind and sprinting down another road and around a corner.

"What in the-?!"

"He's on fire!"

He realized, too late, that he'd run right into the busy town square. People screamed and pushed each other, trying to get out of his way. If Hans could have seen himself, he would've known why: with the collar pulled up around his face, the seared edges of it flickering scarlet and gold as fire ate away holes in the sides, while the blazing fire from his left hand reflected in his narrowed eyes, the prince looked nearer a demon than a man.

The town guard poured in through the side street he'd just left, and he stumbled back, looking around frantically. There was nowhere to go; anywhere he went would be too easy to follow, and he couldn't run forever.

_WHZ!_

Something rushed past his ear and thudded into the wall of a shop behind him. Hans realized it was an arrow from a crossbow.

Another came flying straight towards his face; Hans instinctively incinerated it in the air with a blast of fire, the ashes dropping harmlessly to the ground no more than a foot from him. This was beyond unfair; there were at least twelve of them, and only one of him. His teeth gritted in anger as he destroyed two more bolts before they could strike.

"Stop! Stop! We need him alive!"

The onslaught of arrows ceased, but the insinuation only made the prince angrier. "Oh you do, do you?!" he snarled. He fired a shot of his own at them, and several let out shouts as they ducked the sphere of fire that hit a bakery behind them. The building went up in flames almost instantly, and they tried to run, but Hans stalked forward, trapping them. Panicking, the soldiers pushed back at each other and trying to get out of the way as he advanced forward, their faces filled with terror. Hans's jaw was clenched tight, teeth barred in rage. His hand flamed like hellfire, ready to end this, ready to make them pay-

_No!_

Something inside him screamed in fear, and he realized, like a man coming out of a trance, that he'd been about to- about to-

He put his hand down at his side. The blazes flickered and died, leaving the remains of the stores charred and glowing cherry-red. The soldiers stared at him, stunned.

"Go," he told them darkly. "And tell your queen that if she's as smart as I think she is, she won't come after me."

They stood there, frozen in shock. "Go!" he shouted roughly. "Or do I need to persuade you?!" He lit his left palm ablaze again, and the soldiers turned tail and fled.

Hans watched them go, and then extinguished the flames once more and sank weakly to his knees, looking around at the charred shops, the deserted town square. He realized he was trembling. His mouth was dry and full of smoke.

"You said you knew the legend," said a silky voice behind him. He didn't have to look to know it was the Snow Queen. "You know what the Mirror does."

"Elsa beat it," he muttered. "She beat you."

"Is that what you've been resting your hopes on?" He didn't answer. "Poor fool. The Queen hadn't yet been baptized when I found her. You, on the other hand…"

A pale hand curled over his shoulder; frost skittered across the smoking sleeve of his coat. "You can try to suppress it," the sorceress said quietly, "to fight the power inside of you. But you can't hold it back forever. And as far and as fast as you may run, young prince, you will _never_ be able to escape that thing you most fear: _yourself."_

With the last word, something large and heavy clattered to the street in front of him. In the glinting red light from the smoldering coals, Hans saw that it was his sword. She must have found it in the forest.

Somewhere far down inside him, something broke.

"But it doesn't have to be this way," the Snow Queen continued. "All you have to do…is give me the shard."

He shook his head numbly, clenching his hand around the glass.

"Then what will you do?" she asked harshly. "Where will you go?"

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, he picked up the sword and sheath, re-buckled it around his waist, and said lowly, "…Take me away from here."

The Snow Queen considered this, and reasoned that it was the next best option. "As you wish, young prince," she said simply, and pressed finger to the back of his neck. Hans stiffened straight as he felt his body seize up. A terrible, aching cold spread over him, and he began to panic as he found he couldn't move. He collapsed and fell onto his back like a log. With his last ounce of strength, he closed his hand tight over the burning piece of glass.

Then, the darkness swallowed him whole, and he knew no more.

* * *

From behind the ruins of the burnt bakery, the translucent little fire-being, with her wide gold eyes and her candle-like form, watched the fearsome ice sorceress lift the man up as if he weighed no more than a child and place him in her great ice sledge. Careful not to be seen, she crept forward and leapt onto the back of the nearest runner. For a moment she was afraid the ice would melt, but it held firm, as if no heat could possibly thaw it.

She let out a little noise of fright as the sledge took off into the night sky and clung tightly to the runner's supporter. Faster and faster they went, over the fields and towns, small ones, big ones, farms and ports and little lonesome houses near the sea. She closed her eyes tight as they passed over a big town and a beautiful castle, trembling for fear of the height.

Soon enough, the sleigh descended down from its journey and landed on the snowy slopes of a large mountain, before a grand castle made entirely of ice. The Snow Queen stepped out of her sledge and waved her hand. From the earth there arose two great and terrible giants, made entirely of ice and wielding heavy ice battleaxes. The fire-being shrunk down underneath the sled, hoping not to be seen.

The Snow Queen approached the ice castle. As she did, a much smaller snow giant stood from the snowdrift he'd been sitting on and stomped forward, crossing the chasm in a single leap and landing before the icy staircase with an earth-rumbling _thud. _"STAY BACK!" he roared, icicles protruding from his arms and back.

The Snow Queen was unperturbed. "Take him down, boys," she called to the ice giants behind her. They hefted their battleaxes with foolish grins. The snow monster's fierce expression faltered.

The fire-being let out a gasp of fright as she heard the sounds of slicing and a mournful howl of pain. Her flickering form wavered as she trembled, while the Snow Queen returned to the sledge. She lifted the man out and carried him to the stairs, now guarded by the ice giants, and ascended to the top. The being peeped out from behind the sled and watched the sorceress push open the great ice doors and carry the man inside.

"Let no one pass," the sorceress instructed the ice giants. "If anyone tries to enter this palace, take them hostage and bring them to me." The giants nodded their monstrous heads once and turned to stand guard as the ice queen disappeared into the castle. The great ice doors closed with a rumble, and then all was silent.

The fire-being crept out from her hiding place fearfully and looked to the guards. They didn't seem to notice her, small as she was, and she let out a little sigh of relief. "Don't worry, Uncle," she said resolutely. "I'm going to go find help." And with that, she started the long trek down the mountain, in search of someone to aid her creator.


	36. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Winter sun was streaming in through the window when Elsa awoke the next day, which told her it had to be at least nine in the morning, if not later. She got up out of bed and dressed herself, irritated that no one had come to wake her earlier.

Her irritation only worsened when she found her sister and Kristoff sitting in the library, already having dressed and eaten breakfast. Anna, her hair tied up into a bun, was sipping a cup of coffee, as Kristoff stood silently behind her, his face set in his telltale pensive frown. The head guardsman, Captain Markussen, was in the room, as well, which made her think that something had happened worthy of her attention.

As she approached, the head guardsman stood and bowed. "My Queen-"

"Did you find him?" she asked automatically. "Where is he? Why didn't you wake me?" This last was directed to Anna and Kristoff in an accusatory tone.

Anna stood from her armchair as well. "We wanted to let you sleep," she said in a placating tone. "You needed your rest, and besides, a few extra hours wouldn't have changed anything."

"Changed what? What happened?" the Queen demanded.

"Captain Markussen will explain everything while you eat some breakfast," Kristoff said calmly. Elsa glared at him, and he added, "You're no help to anyone if you don't keep your strength up. Eat."

Grudgingly, she sat down in an armchair and took a piece of buttered toast from a plate on the nearby table. "What happened?" she asked the Captain again.

Markussen nodded. "We tracked the prince's path to Emilstad, a port town some ways south of here, yesterday evening. We attempted to apprehend him, but he fled, and we gave chase. Some of my younger lieutenants got it into their thick skulls that the best way to take a man alive is to shoot him dead," he added, rolling his eyes. "Believing himself to be under attack, the prince retaliated in kind."

"Retaliated?" Elsa questioned.

"He lit a nearby building on fire and hemmed us in. He looked angry enough to kill, your Majesty, and I can't say I blame him. But he let us go with a warning—and a message."

"A message? What message?" she urged.

Captain Markussen hesitated, and then admitted, "He said, _'Tell your queen that if she's as smart as I think she is, she won't come after me.'"_

Elsa said nothing to that, frowning deeply. The captain allowed her a moment, and then said, "Any idea what that might mean, your Majesty?"

"It means he's scared," the Queen answered simply.

"He didn't seem very frightened to me, your Majesty. More like frightening."

"He wouldn't," she agreed, putting the toast down on the plate. "Hans masks fear with anger, even from himself. But if he said I shouldn't follow him, then he's scared. The real question is, of what?" She pursed her lips, looking grim. "Did you see where he went after that?"

"No, your Majesty. We didn't exactly stay around long enough to find out."

Elsa digested this for a moment, and then nodded with a deep frown. "Alright. Thank you, Captain; you may go."

"Yes, my Queen." He gave a short bow and left.

"Do you think he found the Snow Queen?" Anna questioned, once he was gone.

"It's possible. Very possible. And if he did, then we're all in a lot of trouble."

"If she got ahold of him, and his shard, then she wouldn't be likely to let him go without a fight," Kristoff agreed grimly. "Which meant wherever she is, he is."

"Exactly."

"So… what are you going to do?" Anna asked.

Elsa wrung her hands. "I don't know yet. But first, I'm going to call a council meeting. They need to know what's happened." She stood. "I'll go find Kai; he'd know where they all are."

"We'll come with you," Anna agreed. "We may as well; we'll need to be there, too."

"Good idea. Let's go."

They left the room quickly; almost as soon as they turned the nearest corner, Elsa spotted Bishop Willum on the opposite end of the hall. "Willum!" she called.

The clergyman spotted them and hurried over quickly. "My Queen?"

"I'm holding an emergency council meeting. Have you seen Kai or any of the others?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, though if you're looking for him, I believe he'll have just finished his midmorning cup of coffee."

"We need to hurry; it's a matter of the utmost importance."

"Is it? What's happened?"

"We think the Snow Queen has Hans."

Willum's face grew very grave indeed, and without another word, he turned on his heels and headed towards the kitchens. The trio hurried after him, nearly running in an effort to keep up.

* * *

Hans, as a matter of fact, was finally waking up, cold, sore, and entirely oblivious to the fact that half the kingdom was looking for him. He sat up shivering and pulled the stolen coat tight around his shoulders. As he did so, he heard a slight clinking and felt a strange weight about his arms, and glanced down to find that twin cuffs of ice were encircling his wrists.

He looked around, blinking, and realized he was in a room constructed entirely out of ice. The artistry of it was intricately delicate, though the room had no furniture; he was almost certain he was in Elsa's ice castle, but as to how long he'd been there, he wasn't sure. The Snow Queen had seemingly vanished, leaving him alone in the palace. The room he was in was of average size and hexagonal in shape, with a high vaulted ceiling, through which shone dim, blue-tinted sunlight. The cuffs about his wrists were attached to long chains that were anchored in the center of the floor. Opposite him, across the room, stood what seemed to be a large mirror.

The mirror itself was a fascinating sight. It glittered like winter snow, fractured into thousands of tiny pieces, all resting within an ornate gilt frame. Parts of it shone an icy blue, others glowed fiery scarlet, but all the shards seemed to glisten and pulse in a way that seemed almost alive. Something about it both attracted and repulsed him. Three small, dark holes stood out against the glittering fragments, clear indications of their missing pieces.

He realized that his hand was still curled tight around something small and sharp, and when he opened it, he saw the fiery piece of glass in his hand. It matched the thousands of other little fragments just like it. Drawn to the mirror by a curiosity and a strange pull, he stood up stiffly and walked forward, ignoring his growing sense of alarm.

The first thing he noticed about the mirror was, despite that it was composed of many thousands of fractured pieces, the image was quite clear; even the colors of the reflection seemed unaffected. The second thing that occurred to him was that, for all the clarity of the reflection, it was not quite correct. Frowning deeply in confusion, he drew yet closer to the mirror, and what he saw startled him so greatly that his eyes flew wide.

It was… him. That was to be expected; after all, he was looking into a mirror. But it wasn't him as he appeared; instead, beyond the glass of the mirror, there seemed to exist another world. A world where snow blew in an eternal blizzard, and his own countenance looked back evenly, dressed in his gray woolen overcoat with his sword sheathed at his side. A white-gloved hand raised to meet the real prince's bare one as he touched the cold glass experimentally, testing to see if it were real.

Then, his reflection grinned. "Hello, Hans."

He jerked backwards in shock. The other him had—had _spoken,_ somehow. "H-how-"

"It's so _fortunate_ that we can finally meet and talk," the mirror-Hans replied. "Seeing as how you keep repressing me in an effort to protect that _precious_ Queen of yours." His tone was mocking, condescending, but altogether Hans's own. "Honestly, do you fancy yourself some sort of knight-errant? It's not as if you're fooling anyone, certainly not Queen Elsa." He chuckled. "Tell me, Hans, does she still cringe at your presence?"

"You're not real," Hans snapped. "You're just an illusion."

"Except the Devil's Mirror doesn't show illusions, does it?" his reflection mused. "It shows the worst in people." He smiled. "And you have a lot to reflect." Hans ground his teeth. "But what do I care; believe whatever you want. Maybe someday, if you believe _really_ hard, that whole fateful day will just disappear."

Hans tried to tear his eyes away, but found he couldn't. "I know what you're trying to do. I'm not giving the Snow Queen the shard."

"Oh, so at least in that matter we are in agreement," his opposite said. "I wouldn't give it up, either. Imagine the kind of power you'll have, if you ever break free of the witch! The power to burn and raze, to rule as you see fit! No, I wouldn't trade that for the world."

"That's not-"

"But then, you're a good guy now, aren't you?" the other said silkily. "Or at least, that's what you tell yourself. You'd never raze a town to the ground, would you? Make the citizens cower beneath you in fear as you took your rightful place as their king? You would never commit such a heinous act for power, _would you?"_

"You're trying to trick me," Hans said, struggling to speak through his muddling thoughts. "Make me think-"

_"Make _you think? Are you really that daft? I'm _you,_ remember? If I'm saying these things to you, doesn't that mean that _you're_ really the one thinking them?"

"You're _not_ me," he hissed, jabbing a finger at the mirror. "I've changed. I don't want to hurt anyone–"

"Come now, Hans. It was never about _hurting_ people." The mirror-Hans shrugged. "People are collateral damage; sometimes they get in the way. It's nothing _personal."_

"Maybe you are who I was," the prince retorted, though his voice wavered at the end, "but you're not who I am now. I don't have to listen to you–"

"Yes, you do," his reflection drawled, as if he were speaking to a particularly slow child. "You do, and you will, because you always have. Oh, you can fight the corruption inside you as if you had some sort of a choice; you can shut _me_ away and pretend you've gotten rid of me. But I'm still here, Hans. I will _always _be here, that rotten core inside of you underneath all the false layers of altruism and justice, that part of you that let itself become corrupted and _twisted_ beyond repair. The monster they all fear you are."

"I–"

"Everyone knows it, even your beloved Queen. How long did it take her to lose trust in you? A minute? Less?" Hans gaped for words. "They all know, Hans—and you know it, too. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He smiled wickedly, removing his glove. "But don't worry, Hans. As long as you have that shard, you have nothing to be afraid of." The world behind him suddenly blazed red, red as coals, and the snow vanished with a _hiss_. "You're the most powerful monster around."

Hans's hands began to shake, and as they did so, the fire in the mirror came to reflect the real flames that were slowly curling themselves up his arms, sparks blowing around and around in a mad whirlwind. He tried to beat the flames out, to quell them or force them off, but each attempt only seemed to agitate the fire even more. The more he panicked, the higher the flames grew, until they seemed like a wildfire out of control. He looked up at the mirror, face twisting with terror.

"After all," his reflection sneered, the fire raging in his hand. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

* * *

Kai's morning started earlier than just about anyone in the palace. When the clock-tower struck six, both he and his wife would get up; Kai would start his rounds to wake the higher members of the castle, while Gerda went to set the servants on their daily chores. He took his breakfast at six-thirty, and then had another cup of coffee, black, around nine.

It was now around nine-thirty, and the pale morning sun was streaming through the castle windows. He had just passed by the door that led out onto the fjord (he'd never understood why that door existed, but then, it wasn't his job to question it) when something caught his attention.

The window in the wooden door was very small, but even through it, Kai could see that the fjord—which Queen Elsa always kept open, as a matter of trade convenience—had inexplicably frozen over.

Baffled, Kai undid the latch on the door and opened it. A gust of icy cold wind rushed through the open doorway, cutting straight to the bone. Kai's eyes narrowed into a confused squint as he saw someone walking across the fjord. It took only a moment for the figure to become distinguishable, but when it was, his heart stopped dead, mouth falling open, limbs freezing with dread.

The Snow Queen smiled coldly. "Hello, Kai."

The manservant stumbled backwards, seized with a sudden terror. For one dizzying moment, he couldn't quite remember where or when he was, but felt as if he were once more a little child with coppery curls and fearful hazel eyes.

* * *

_He sat there as silently as he was able, too terrified to speak but unable to suppress the hiccupping sobs that periodically escaped his blue-tinged mouth, the tears freezing on his cheeks before they could fall to the ground. His hands had gone numb and white; his feet no longer had any sensation inside his wooden shoes. He could not feel the cold, but that gave him no comfort, for it had been replaced by a feeling of awful deadness. Kai curled in close to himself and sniffled, having felt never more alone and afraid in his eight years of life as he did right then._

_"Oh, would you quit your blubbering already!" The harsh voice made his head snap up, startled. The Snow Queen was glaring down at him, her teeth bared in severe irritation. "You were the one who wanted to come with me, or have you forgotten?"_

_"Please," Kai begged. "Please, let me go home."_

_"You fool. Could you even tell me where home is?"_

_The boy opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't. Still, in his heart there was a deep, sorrowful emptiness—a hollow longing for something he was sure he had once known, but had since forgotten. The Snow Queen sighed, shortly and angrily, and turned back to her task. She seemed to be studying several shards of bluish ice, which rested in the center of an enormous gold frame on the ground, muttering to herself. "Two rings, then, attached- for the shards in the center are missing, wherever they may be… but how to arrange it? A thousand attempts and still, futile." Around the blue shards were hundreds of others like them, all scattered throughout the empty golden frame as if they'd been dropped there. She had told him upon his arrival in the vast, empty ice palace that the frame and its many blue shards were called the "The Mirror of Reason," and how it was the best sort of mirror and that this was the only one like it._

_Kai gave little attention to her mutterings, for he was still trying desperately to remember what a home was, where his could possibly be, and who he himself had once been. It was only when a snowy servant entered the room that both the child and the sorceress turned, startled._

_"My Queen," the white figure said, bowing. "We have good news. It seems that at last some of the burning shards have been located."_

_The Snow Queen's eyes widened. "Located? Where?"_

_"In the south, My Queen- volcanic regions."_

_"Hm. Very well; I shall set out at once. Be gone." The servant bowed and left. The Snow Queen herself seemed about to follow him, and then paused. "Boy," she said sharply._

_Kai looked up, startled, and got to his feet. "Y-Yes?"_

_"You desire your freedom, do you not?"_

_"Oh- yes, yes, I do!"_

_"I am about to leave for a long journey to the south; here is what I want you to do. Do you see these shards of ice, here?" She pointed to several of the blue pieces in the gold frame._

_"Yes."_

_"I want you to use them to make the symbol for 'eternity.' Do you know what I mean by this?"_

_"Like an eight, turned sideways." Kai was momentarily proud that he knew this; he'd always been rather good at mathematics—or at least, he thought he had been._

_"Very good. If you have managed this by the time I return, I will make you your own master again, and give you the whole world and a new pair of skates. Would you like that?"_

_Kai gasped and nodded eagerly, and quickly set about the work, moving the shards of ice around as fast as he dared and taking great care not to cut himself on their sharp edges. Away the Snow Queen went, muttering to herself about names like "Etna" and "Vesuvius," and other such words as Kai had never heard before. He paid these last comments no mind, for he was fixed now with a goal, desperate to make the two little connected circles that would buy for him his freedom, and the whole world—and even a brand-new pair of skates._

* * *

His head cleared, and he found himself again a grown man, though the fear still remained. The Snow Queen laughed. "How you are trembling, Kai! Still a sniveling little imp inside, aren't you? But then, men always are."

"Kai? Close that door; you'll let in the–" Gerda broke off suddenly, her face paling.

The Snow Queen's eyes narrowed. "And you. I ought to have known _you'd_ be here."

"Naturally," Gerda answered, tight-lipped. "This is my position; I serve the Queen. I do not abandon those I care for out of fear, as you well know."

The sorceress let out a sound distinctly similar to a cat's hiss. "Why you–"

"Kai! Gerda! Get away from that door!"

Willum came striding up through the hall, Elsa, Anna and Kristoff following shortly behind. The Snow Queen's expression turned to one of repulsion. "I remember you, also. An older boy, you were—a tramp's son, poor as dirt, hooking up your sled to the farm carts for a free ride. What a game you all made of it! But you shooed the others far from mine, didn't you?"

The bishop's eyes were steely. "And glad I am for it. How many other children have you stolen in such ways?"

She disregarded this. "You didn't know me, but you sensed something—_your_ sort always senses something. A blasted injustice."

"You are not one to speak of injustice," Willum retorted sharply.

The Snow Queen scoffed, and then glanced past him. She smiled and said mockingly, "Ah, the good Queen Elsa. The paragon of virtue and charity. I'd have a word with you."

"You'll do such thing," Willum said sternly. "You have no recourse here, neither you nor your master!"

"Come here, little queen," the Snow Queen said coolly, ignoring the bishop. "We have important affairs to discuss."

Elsa had watched this whole exchange from behind Gerda's shoulder, and decided it was about time she did something. She slipped around the housekeeper and out into the cold.

"Elsa!" Anna said, startled, but the Queen paid her sister no mind, walking briskly across the fjord. The little slivers of ice stung against her cheek like needles. Elsa grimaced and with a wave of her hand created a snowy cloak, which she clasped at the neck before striding forward.

"Elsa, stop!" Anna shouted into the driving winds. It was futile; her sister was no longer listening. Anna tried to run out after her, but Kai caught her by the shoulder. "No, Princess! Not you as well!"

Out on the frozen fjord, Elsa approached the Snow Queen. Once she was within a few feet, the sorceress raised a hand, and suddenly, the miniature blizzard died down. The snow fell to the ground.

"Queen Elsa," she said, in a voice as smooth as an iced-over pond. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person. Now we can discuss matters freely."

Elsa disregarded this. "What have you done with him?"

"With whom?"

"Hans. Prince Hans. I know you have him; what have you done with him?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing permanent." Elsa's gaze was frosted ice. "Why should you care? Weren't you the one he tried to behead?"

"I am not fond of seeing my friends kidnapped."

The Snow Queen regarded her with a mild interest. "Friends, you say?" She glanced at the doorway, where the rest were still watching, worried. She turned her attention back to Elsa. "Be that as it may, Elsa–" The blonde's eyes narrowed at how she deliberately left out her title, "–he had my property. I wanted it returned, but he refused to hand it over."

"The shard, then. I guessed as much. Where is he?" She looked past, to the ice sleigh, but couldn't more than shapes and shadows beyond the translucent sides. "Is he in there?"

The Snow Queen didn't answer. Instead, she said, "I'll make you a deal, Elsa. Yes, I have your precious little prince. I will reunite the two of you, _if—_and only if—you return that shard to me."

Elsa felt a sharp pain in her chest and let out a short gasp. When she reached inside her cloak, something tore through the thin cotton fabric of her dress and fell into her hand. She pulled it out, staring down at the tiny object in her hand.

The icy-blue shard was strangely entrancing, a deep cerulean color that appeared to pulse in time with her own heartbeat. It seemed almost…alive, somehow. Elsa wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Well, Elsa? The prince for the shard. Is it a deal?" the Snow Queen asked silkily, drawing the young monarch's attention back to her.

"Your Majesty, you can't trust her!" Willum shouted from behind. Elsa glanced back, then again to the Snow Queen. She looked between her and the blue shard in her own hands. Then, she made her decision.

"It's a deal."

The Snow Queen reached out her hand, and Elsa extended her own, ignoring the warning cries from behind her, the crystalline blue shard held loosely in her fingertips. The moment she let go, the cold struck her like a knife, and she let out a sharp gasp. It was the first time in her memory that she'd ever felt such a sensation. The Snow Queen laughed, and bars of ice shot up all around the young monarch. "We had a deal!" Elsa shouted angrily, pulling at the bars of her frozen cage.

"Oh, you'll see the prince soon enough, don't worry," the Snow Queen cackled. "You'll be imprisoned together!"

"Let her go!" Anna cried, desperately trying to fight her way past Kai and Willum to her sister. _"Elsa!"_

"Anna!" the queen shouted, whirling around. She slammed her fists into the ice.

And, miraculously, the bars shattered. The Snow Queen snarled and raised her fists, conjuring icicles up from the fjord. Elsa dodged them, running as fast as she could towards the castle. Up the stairs, to the doorway-

An icicle sprang up from the frozen earth just beside the door, knocking her off-kilter. She tripped forward but managed to land inside the castle walls, smacking her head against the stone floor. The rest didn't have time to see if she was still conscious, for the Snow Queen was also rushing forward, blown by winter winds and snow that brought her straight up to the castle.

Willum slammed his crosier across the doorway like a barrier. "You cannot enter on sacred ground!" he bellowed at her. "Begone, witch! In the name of all that is good and holy, _begone!"_

She snarled and gnashed her teeth, but there was nothing she could do against such a command. Whirling around, she threw her arms wide, and a blizzard furled out, covering the sky and racing across the whole countryside. Snow blew in through the doorway, obscuring the woman until all that could be seen was the rushing storm.

Willum stepped back, breathing heavily, and Kai quickly closed the door, cutting off the sound of the fresh howling winds. Anna was already kneeling beside Elsa, the former frantically checking her sister over for injuries. As she pushed back the snowy cloak's hood, she let out a stunned, "Whoa."

"What is it?" Kristoff said, looking over. Then he, too, stopped and stared. Behind him, Kai, Willum and Gerda looked on in shock.

Even as they watched, Elsa's hair finished streaking from whitish-blonde to dark brown, the color curling down every last strand, right to the end of her braid.


	37. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**Also, my thanks to Robert Manion, the writer of "They Let Go," for inspiring the tune of "Their Reward." (You guys probably know this as the "Evil Elsa" song; check it out here: www. youtube . com watch?v=Qh1xrWetwgc [remove spaces.])**

* * *

The moment her eyes opened, Elsa knew something was wrong.

What exactly the problem was, she couldn't quite put a finger on, but clearly something was amiss. She felt entirely unwell, with a churning stomach and headache, and a miserable sensation that felt as if she were about to have a heatstroke, yet somehow completely different. Her mind was fogged over and she couldn't seem to follow a train of thought. She was bundled in blankets, she noticed; someone would have to instruct whichever well-meaning maid was responsible that the Queen never needed such things.

As she pushed back the comforters, the curious sensation increased, and she unconsciously shuddered. Her feet clumsily found the floor, and she managed to stand up. She shot out a hand to steady herself against the bed-rail as the room seemed to pitch perilously, like a ship on rough seas.

When at last the spinning had stopped, Elsa took a few cautious steps forward. She glanced around the room, trying to work out a coherent thought, and then… and then something caught her eye. Or rather, someone.

She turned and stared. A woman with dark hair and a gentle face looked back at her. Elsa felt relief flood through her. "Mother!" She reached out to touch the woman. The woman reached back–

And Elsa felt her fingers graze upon, not human skin, but cold, hard glass.

It took her a long moment to realize what had happened, but when she did, her heart fell. Of course the dark-haired woman looking back at her could not be her mother. Though the face was the spitting image of the late queen, Elsa had never seen her mother with her hair down in a braid trailing over her shoulder. As if that weren't enough, the eyes were not the same warm hazel as belonged with the features, but instead a shocking blue. Elsa was not looking at her mother, but in a mirror.

She pulled her hand back, touched her braid. Her hair, so glossy and dark, looked strange against her pale skin. She waved her hand experimentally in the air.

Nothing.

Still not believing it, she reached forward, touched the edge of the mirror. No frost covered the gilt.

_I'm…normal?_

Instantly, everything came flooding back: the fjord, the Snow Queen, the shard…

Elsa stepped back. The room seemed to be spinning again. She'd given up her powers. She'd let the Snow Queen have the shard, and Hans—she'd been tricked. She'd fallen right into her trap.

Suddenly, her parents' wisdom became painfully clear. While Elsa still wished they had told her the truth as soon as she was old enough to understand, she realized—too late, now—just what had been at stake. How many times had she wished and prayed for some way to be rid of her powers? How many times had she imagined a life without them? And if she had known that the curse's originator had been waiting just beyond the palace walls, eager to fulfill her wish—well, could she say with all honesty that she would not have given the Snow Queen the shard without a second thought to the cost?

_What have I done?_

She felt herself shudder again, and realized that she was cold—a curious and rather unpleasant sensation that she was now experiencing for the first time in her memory. She turned towards her bed, intending to retrieve the unused blanket from the end. What she saw caused her breath to catch in her throat.

Outside her window, a fresh blizzard roared with even greater force than its predecessor. "Oh no," she breathed.

Without bothering about the blanket, she hurried over to her door, pulled it open. Much to her surprise, she found herself face-to-fingers with Anna's fist, poised to knock.

"Oh!" Anna said, startled. "You're up."

"Yes, I'm–" The sensation of chill suddenly seized her anew, and she remembered that her parents had always complained of the castle's seasonal drafts. The temperature change was too much to someone feeling so unwell, and she stumbled forward.

"Elsa!" Anna quickly caught her sister around the shoulders. "You okay?"

"Fine," the queen said, steadying herself. "Just a little out-of-sorts."

"I was just coming to check on you." She studied her sister and then said softly, "Wow."

"What?"

"You look just like…"

"Like Mother. I know."

There was a moment's pause, and then both sisters hugged each other tightly. "What do we do, Elsa?" Anna said in a muffled voice. "What would they have done?"

Elsa shook her head. "I don't know." She pulled back and shuddered again. "Could we go somewhere warmer? I don't like the draft out here."

"Yeah, I figured you might be pretty chilled when you woke up. Let's go to the library; everyone's waiting for you there."

"Is everyone alright?" Elsa questioned, as they began to walk. "You? Kristoff?"

"Everyone's fine."

"What happened after I passed out?"

"Well, Willum did some really cool thing with his staff to stop the Snow Queen from getting in, and then pretty much banished her. She whipped up that storm outside before she left, though."

"What about the villagers? Are they alright?"

"As far as we know, everyone's okay; Kristoff got the guard organized to go out with lanterns and ropes and stuff to find everyone; it took an hour or so, but we've pretty much got the whole town back in the castle."

"That's good," Elsa sighed. "If only I hadn't been so stupid…without my powers I can't do anything." She smiled ruefully. "Can't even build a snowm–" She stopped suddenly. _"Olaf."_

"What?" Anna said, worried.

"Olaf! My magic brought him to life; without my powers-"

"Olaf's fine," Anna cut in reassuringly. "He's in the garden right now with the reindeer."

"Nothing…happened to him?"

"Nope. I mean, his flurry stopped snowing, so he can't come inside, but he didn't become un-alive or anything."

"Oh," the Queen said, with obvious relief. "I suppose that makes sense; after all, it's not like we stopped living when Mother and Father…"

"Right, exactly. Your council was really worried, though; I think they all thought you were going to die or something. Willum calmed them down and told them to wait in the library; Kai and Gerda are there, too."

"Oh, the council meeting… I'd forgotten."

They walked in silence for a moment, before Anna said softly, "What you did back there—it was really brave."

The Queen looked over, startled. "Pardon?"

"You gave up your powers, just like that. To save someone none of us wanted anything to do with a month ago." Anna peered up at her, awed. "You didn't even think about it."

Elsa pursed her lips. "Maybe I should have thought about it a little more...I was just so worried about him."

"Even still. That was...Elsa, you're amazing, powers or no powers."

And despite herself, the Queen smiled. "Thank you, Anna. Just now, I needed to hear that."

By this time they'd reached the library, and Elsa rubbed her eyes, sighing. Anna pursed her lips. It was obvious that her sister was feeling remarkably unwell; she looked exhausted, and more to the point, she still shivered periodically, clearly still unused to the chill. Nevertheless, Elsa straightened up, lifted her chin, and pushed the wooden doors open wide.

Her councilors (who had been sitting on various sofas and seats around the fireplace) all rose as she entered. "Gentlemen," the queen said cordially. "Please, do excuse my tardiness."

"Your Majesty, are you quite alright?" said Lady Evjen with genuine concern.

"Aside from a bad case of hubris and foolishness? I'm well enough, but I'm afraid Arendelle is not, a fact for which I take full responsibility. Please, be seated."

Her councilors agreed to this, reclaiming their seats as Elsa walked around the sofas to stand in front of the fire. "No doubt Kai, Gerda and Willum have informed you all of what has happened," she said, nodding to the trio, who were still standing near the piano.

"Is it all true, your Majesty? The Snow Queen? The Mirror?" said Lord Frandsen, frowning deeply.

"It is. Moreover, our situation has just become incredibly more complicated… a complication for whom I can blame none but myself," Elsa said heavily. "With my shard, the Snow Queen has gained immense power, and I have lost mine. I can no longer defend Arendelle on my own… and we have reason to believe that the only person standing between the Snow Queen and full completion of the Mirror is Prince Hans himself, who has likely been taken as her prisoner."

At this, the mood became incredibly subdued. "Fantastic," Lord Finnmork snapped. "The traitor of our country is now our only hope!"

"Hans isn't a traitor," Anna interrupted. The council turned to look at her, and she flushed. "I mean, I know he was, once—trust me, no one knows that better than me. But he's on our side now, I'm sure of it."

"And what about you, Queen Elsa?" questioned Lord Frandsen. "Are you so certain as the princess?"

"Yes, how do you know he didn't run away to join her forces?" asked Master Folkestad.

The rest of her council joined in with various doubts of their own. "What say the Queen?" "Are you certain of this, your Majesty?" "Can you vouch for him?"

Elsa's head was suddenly clouded with doubt. _Could_ she trust him? She didn't know anything for certain—what if she and the others had all reached the wrong conclusion? What if he really had played her for a fool? What if–

"Even if Elsa can't, I can."

She looked over, startled, to see that Kristoff had stepped forward. "I know Hans has messed up big-time in the past, but he's good at heart, you can take my word for it. He wouldn't betray Arendelle, not willingly." His eyes met Elsa's. "Anna's right. He really has changed."

"You're sure of this, Sir Bjorgman?" Willum questioned.

"Hans is a good man," Kristoff said firmly. "I stake my honor with his."

Anyone who'd ever met Kristoff Bjorgman knew that that was not something he did lightly, especially not concerning a known criminal. Though Lord Finnmork rolled his eyes, the rest of the councilors glanced around at themselves and nodded.

"Alright," Elsa said, trying to hide her relief. "Now that that's settled, we have to face the facts: Arendelle, and indeed the rest of the world, is in grave danger at the hands of powerful enemy. We need a solution. Captain Markussen, do you have any suggestions?"

The head guardsman stood and bowed. "Your Majesty," he said grimly, "The only suggestion I have is to prevent further damage and, if possible, alleviate that which has already taken place—by which I mean, the Snow Queen must not acquire the prince's shard, at any cost…and, if we truly wish to end her power, the Devil's Mirror will have to be destroyed. As to how that can be accomplished, I cannot perceive, especially considering that she could be anywhere at the moment–"

A sudden, urgent knock at the library doors cut him off, startling the council members. Kai hurried to open it, to find a young guard standing there. "E-excuse me, your Majesty, sirs and madams," the man stammered, clearly nervous. "Only, we've, well, we've received something for you."

"Something?" Elsa questioned, surprised. "Like a package?"

"In a manner of speaking, m'Lady."

"Well, bring it in," Elsa said, a little impatient. The guard nodded behind him, and two more came in, huffing under the weight of a block of ice, about the size of a small chest. Elsa's eyes flew wide as the guards set the block down in front of her, bowed, and left.

"It's… addressed to you," Anna said uncertainly, pointing to the top. Carved in fluid cursive into the ice itself was the name, _Elsa._

"There's something inside of it," Kristoff noticed, peering through the translucent material. Elsa realized that he was right; something of a vaguely yellowish-gold color sat in the center of the ice. "Here." He retrieved his ice pick from its loop on his belt. Lord Finnmork snorted, and Kristoff shot him a glare before kneeling down beside the block.

He chipped at it, lightly at first, and then harder. _Thwack! Thwack! ThwACK!_

At the last chip, the ice block suddenly split in two. Elsa felt her mouth fall open.

Glinting up at her, half of it still lodged solidly in the ice, sat her royal crown.

"…Well," she said, after a long moment, glancing up. "I guess we know where he is now. And our solution is clear."

"Your Majesty?" Lady Evjen questioned, confused.

"The Snow Queen has taken up residence in my palace on the North Mountain," Elsa said curtly, mouth tight with anger. "That's likely where she'll have the mirror—and Prince Hans. Clearly she wants me to follow her up there… and I'm going to play right into her hands."

"You can't mean that you're thinking of going up there!" Kai said, aghast.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking. Someone has to find Hans, and someone has to destroy that mirror."

"Absolutely not," the manservant said, getting to his feet. "Your father entrusted me with the duty of caring for you-"

"My father entrusted me with the duty of caring for my kingdom," she interrupted. "The Snow Queen has attacked Arendelle; hence, she is my responsibility."

"You have no idea how she operates!" Kai said vehemently. The rest of the council was looking on, too startled by the forcefulness of the generally unassuming manservant's voice to interrupt. "There is no reasoning with her, no chance to change her mind—and anyone who thinks differently is a fool!"

"I beg your pardon!" Elsa snapped back. "In case you have forgotten, I am your Queen and I do not appreciate being spoken to as if I were a child!"

"Kai," Gerda said, voice sharp and firm. The manservant had already opened his mouth to retort, but his wife's hand on his arm made him pause. "I'm sure her Majesty meant no harm. She's only worried about the prince."

Kai glanced from her to Elsa, and his whole demeanor changed, slumping with weariness. "Forgive me, m'Lady. I forgot to whom I was speaking."

"No; the fault is mine," Elsa sighed. "I shouldn't have been so quick to take offense."

"Queen Elsa, you must understand—she had no sense of mercy," the man said tiredly. "I was only a child when she took me; there was not yet enough darkness in me to use against me, so she simply made me forget. But the prince…she will make him _remember."_

"All the more reason for me to try to find him," Elsa said firmly.

"I agree, he ought to be rescued," Willum added fairly, "but by someone else, your Majesty! You can't put yourself into that kind of danger."

"I agree with Bishop Willum," Captain Markussen added. "You should send up a search party; the royal guard is more than willing–"

"The royal guard is excellent when handling ordinary enemies, Captain Markussen, but all our troops combined wouldn't last a minute against the Snow Queen," Elsa interrupted. "You forget how easily I myself dispatched of them last year. Besides, if Hans will be willing to listen to anyone, it'll be me."

"And why you?" Kristoff said doubtfully, standing crossing his arms.

"Because I'm the only one who has the slightest idea of what he's going through," she answered firmly.

"But without your powers! My Queen, you have never been more vulnerable than you are now!" Kai argued. "What would we do if we lost you?"

"I am the only one who stands a chance of getting through to him," she explained.

"But you are our ruler!"

"If he hands over that shard, there will be no Arendelle left for me to rule." Her expression was so grim that their arguments fell silent. "I have to go. There's no other option."

"No." Everyone looked over, surprised, to where Anna was standing next to the sofa. Her expression was fierce. "No, Elsa, I'm not letting you do this! It's too dangerous!"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I forgot running up frozen mountains in the face of certain peril was _your_ thing," Elsa retorted with faux politeness.

"Can't we at least discuss this?!"

"No, we cannot. Gerda, if you could try to find a winter dress; I think I've gotten rid of most of mine, but there may be a spare one around somewhere-"

"Elsa!" Anna snapped, losing her temper. Elsa started and turned. "Whether you like it or not, you are going to listen to me! Don't you dare pull that Queen stuff with me; I'm your _sister,_ not one of your subjects! And I'm telling you that this is really dangerous!"

Elsa stared for a second, and then walked over to Anna and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're right," she said gently. "And I'm sorry. I know you're just worried about me." Anna's face softened a little at that. "But Hans is…he's become a friend. I can't just leave him up there to die. And I can't run the risk that he gives in before I can get to him; I have to do what's best for my people before I do what's best for me."

The princess seemed to deliberate this for a moment, and then sighed. "Okay. I still think it's a really, _really_ bad idea, but if you think you can get through to him…then I'll trust you."

"Thank you," the queen said gently. They hesitated, and then after a moment, gave each other a brief hug. When they pulled away, Elsa said, "I leave charge over the kingdom to Princess Anna…and Sir Kristoff." The ice harvester looked over at her, surprised, but Elsa pretended not to notice. "You are to listen to their orders as if they came from me, am I clear?"

"Yes, your Majesty," said her council, some of them more grudgingly than others.

Elsa nodded shortly and turned to Gerda. "As I was saying, if you could find me a winter dress, I would be very much obliged. And I'll need someone to ready my horse."

"Of course, m'Lady," the housekeeper said with a quick bow, and then hurried away. Anna squeezed her sister's hand, and then left with Kristoff, until the queen was alone in the room.

Elsa walked over quietly to the piano, and found—much to her surprise—her hymnal lying on the side where she'd left it in such a rush earlier that morning. With shaking hands, she opened it up to a page marked by a dried rose, and placed it on the piano. Her uncertain fingers traced their way through the melody, but the notes sounded disjointed, unskilled. With a sigh, she closed the book, and, holding it in her hands, looked out the window.

Although it was still only late afternoon, outside, she could see nothing but a gray, dull twilight. Even so, she knew that somewhere, high up on the North Mountain, was the prince who was ironically her country's last hope, undergoing who knew what sorts of torments at the hands of a most terrible foe.

"Don't worry, Hans," the queen vowed under her breath. "I'll find you. I promise."

And with that, she turned from the piano and swept out of the library.

* * *

"Ah, so you're finally awake then."

Hans gasped and started, whirling around. The Snow Queen looked back coldly; he hadn't even heard her entrance.

"W-why have you brought me here?" he demanded, stepping towards her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why, don't you remember? It was at your own request."

"I told you to take me away from the village; I never said you could imprison me!" he said hotly, curling his hands into fists. Flames licked the edges of his knuckles and up his wrists.

"Actually, as a matter of fact, you did," the Snow Queen said disinterestedly, walking around the perimeter of the room towards the mirror. "To quote you exactly, you said, 'Take me away from here.' By the word 'take,' you gave me permission to acquire you as my possession; you never specified when I was to let you go. As such, that decision falls to me." Hans ground his teeth. "I trust you've enjoyed your stay thus far?"

"Enjoyed my—_no,_ I have _not_ enjoyed my stay," he growled. "I want to leave. What right do you have to–"

His angry retort died in his mouth as the Snow Queen suddenly caught him by the chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "What _right_ do I have?" she said, voice dangerously cold. "I have every right to hold you as my prisoner, young prince. The rights of vengeance are the strongest bonds of all."

He struggled to find his voice. "…Vengeance?" he managed, baffled. "What right to vengeance? I've done nothing to you."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Oh, no, _you've_ never wronged me, young prince, but you are of the same breed who has. I have a right to vengeance on all your foul sort—and, through you, the whole human race." She released his chin, walking away. "Did you really think that your betrayal of the Princess and Queen would go unpunished? That I would have mercy on your crimes?"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, but his voice broke with fear.

She turned, smiled that cold smile. "Oh, you foolish man. Don't you know that the lowest circle of Hell is reserved for traitors? And it is not in a lake of fire that they perish."

She cast her arms wide, and the glassy walls around him fractured darkly, angry claws of ice growing from the sides. Hans stepped back, and then let out a sharp gasp as his boots froze to the floor. "They are eternally trapped in a prison of ice," she cackled, eyes flashing with malice.

"_I used to be young, naïve and foolish;_

_A peasant girl who believed in love so true._

_Enchanted by pretty words_

_That fell like honey from the lips_

_Of a man not quite so different from you!" _She pointed a finger at him, and Hans cringed, expecting to die then and there. Instead, two embracing figures formed of snowflakes arose from the floor.

"_But he should have known revenge was short in coming,"_ the Snow Queen spat,

"_When I caught him with a lovely little waif._

_And so I made a pact_

_And with that simple act_

_Nowhere in that village ever again was safe!"_ She blasted the figures with the ice, turning them to solid stone even as they flung out their translucent hands, screaming in voices like the wind.

"_Their reward! Their reward!"_ she sneered, raising more figures from the floor.

"_Hell hath no fury to match a woman scorned!  
Their reward! Their reward!_

_At the first hint of a snowflake,_

_Well they all should've been warned!"_ The ethereal villagers froze solid as well, and then shattered into millions of shards on the ground.

_When I signed my soul away _

_It was a paltry price to pay_

_To crush their icy hearts_

_And freeze the summer day!_

_And when the town stood silent before me_

_I had my victory!_

_Their reward!"_

The look on her face was manic, alternating between fury and glee, and the prince began to panic. _She's not just evil, she's crazy!_ And those villagers—their garb was ancient, and definitely not Arendellian. His mind flashed back to the feeling of his own mind disintegrating in the terrifying isolation of the cell. How long had she been alone with no one but the Mirror to talk to?

The Snow Queen seemed to have forgotten he was there. "_With the village turned to a frozen graveyard," _she continued,

_"I traveled to the far north to take my reign."_ All around him, new sets of villagers arose, these clad in snowy versions of ancient Nordic wear, the men holding spears and shields.

"_You worshiped me as a god_

_And in my own right, perhaps I was—_

_In any case, you mortals all felt the same!"_ The northmen bowed to her in unison.

"_But then men of warmth of heart came from the southlands,_

_And taught the people here to live without their fear!"_ She sneered as humble men in robes and shorn heads came among the people, holding their snowy crosses. The people turned and vanished, leaving the Snow Queen alone.

"_My loyal flock was gone_

_And I swore I would go on_

_To exact revenge with ice sharp and sheer!" _She turned to Hans, who tried to back away, but found his feet still cemented to the floor.

"_Now the time has come to punish the whole earth,"_ she hissed, grabbing hold of the chains that held his hands.

"_For its disrespect and its ignorance!_

_And a goddess I will be_

_And all will bow to me_

_Lest they be frozen for their irreverence!"_ She yanked the chains, and, unable to step forward, Hans fell hard to his knees.

"_Their reward! Their reward!_

_The northland will be the first_

_To taste the bite of winter's blast!"_ She flung her hand to the sky, and within the icy room, there began to spin a cloudless blizzard of snowflakes.

"_Their reward! Their reward!_

_These people are all fools_

_If they think the past is in the past!_

_The world covered in white_

_And the bodies of they who dare fight._

_With snow the sun eclipsed,_

_In a frozen apocalypse!" _she cackled.

"_And all will cower low_

_Before the Queen of Ice and Snow!_

_Their reward!"_

The blizzard descended upon the rest of the room, the howling winds whipping the stolen coat against his legs. The prince shielded his eyes and peered through the snowstorm. In the center of the chaos stood the ghastly figure of the Snow Queen, her dress and hair blowing about wildly, blue light crackling about her hands and her eyes flashing with a terrible, frozen rage.


	38. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: ****To the Guest reviewers who keep suggesting AUs and/or posting chapters of their own story: I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to keep deleting them. The review section isn't really the forum for that sort of thing. Again, I recommend you create your own account and post stories on the site that way; this site is quite user-friendly, and it's much easier for you to get feedback from a wider range of readers that way. I wish you all the best. :)**

**To the rest of you: some of you might remember that this is one of the longest chapters in the story; hence, this will be the only one uploaded today. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

When Gerda at last found the Queen again, after a good half-hour's search of the castle, she was not altogether surprised to find her Majesty standing silently in the hallway just outside the picture room, clearly deep in thought. Here, the visages of Arendelle's queens and kings ran unbroken along the royal portrait gallery, tracing back to an ancient tapestry depicting the first jarls of Arendelle and culminating in the reigning queen's portrait, peering nervously out at the viewer from her layers of purple cape and green silk. It was not lost on the matronly housekeeper that the young woman's eyes were fixed almost unblinkingly, not upon her own painting, but upon the portrait of her departed parents. The late King and Queen looked down lovingly upon their eldest daughter, unchanging countenances filled with wisdom and strength, and the housekeeper held back, feeling somehow that she had intruded on a family meeting.

After her lady had not acknowledged her presence for a few minutes, Gerda quietly cleared her throat. Elsa started and looked over. "Oh, Gerda. I didn't notice you there."

"I've brought the dress you requested, m'Lady." She approached and lifted the neatly folded bundle of clothes in her hands.

"Oh, thank you." Elsa quickly took the bundle, unfolding each of the items in turn. At the top was a pair of black leather boots, a pair of burgundy mittens and a royal blue bonnet lined with white rabbit's fur. Beneath that was a heavy wool winter cloak of the same color. The last item was a blue woolen dress, with white trim about the waist and hem and cranberry-red embroidery on the bodice.

"It's lovely," Elsa said, holding the dress over one arm and tracing the embroidered scarlet flowers. "Why have I never seen this before?"

"It was your mother's, your Majesty, one of her favorites," Gerda said gently. "She didn't fit it anymore after having Anna, but she couldn't bear to give it away. She was saving it for you…she never lost hope that you might one day find a way to break the curse."

"My mother's…" Elsa murmured, looking up to the portraits lining the wall. Her mouth became a thin, worried line, and Gerda pursed her own lips in sympathy.

"What is it, m'Lady?" she asked gently, after a moment's hesitance.

The Queen sighed. "Everything's become so confusing, Gerda. It's as if the entire world has ceased making sense, and no matter what decision I make, it always seems to be the wrong one. I just…I wish I could ask their advice. Not just Mama and Papa, but all of them…they would have known what to do."

Gerda chuckled, and Elsa glanced over, startled. "What?"

"Your Majesty, your parents were just as inexperienced as you when they first took the throne, and their parents before them. They made mistakes, and they learned, and grew wiser for it. Why, your grandparents couldn't have been any older than twenty when I first met them. Very young, yes, but even then they were kind and good, and that is the greatest wisdom anyone can ask for in their rulers."

"You mean you knew them?" Elsa said, surprised; she'd never had the chance to meet them herself, as they'd died before she was born.

"Oh, only briefly. I stayed a night here during my travels." At her lady's curious look, the housekeeper nodded to the third-to-last portrait, in which stood a stunningly beautiful woman in a white gown embellished with pearls. At her side stood the handsome young king; his long red hair, tied back, and shining blue eyes reminded Elsa of her sister, and she smiled despite herself. "I heard that the princess was accepting suitors, and I thought Kai might be among them. When I arrived I found she'd made her decision and married a young man, but it wasn't Kai at all, of course—it was your grandfather, an honest peasant who'd won the heart of the princess," Gerda said with a slight sigh. "It sounds like something out of a fairytale, doesn't it? They gave me a coach and a new dress—and a muff, too, I'd forgotten about that."

"And my father was their son," Elsa said, looking to the next picture.

"Yes, he was. He and your mother had an arranged marriage, as well you know. They weren't in love in the beginning, or at least that's what I've heard."

"They were always so affectionate. When do you think it happened?"

"Oh, I was there, m'Lady. As a matter of fact, so were you."

"Me?" said Elsa, eyes widening in surprise.

Gerda smiled. "They'd cared for each other, certainly, but they'd never been _in _love…at least, not until the day you were born. The first time your mother ever held you in her arms, your father watching protectively over…I knew without a doubt. That was the moment your parents found true love."

"And you and Kai?" the Queen inquired.

"Ah, well, Kai and I have known each other for as long as I could remember," Gerda replied, turning away from the picture. "We were best friends as children; we'd plant flowers in window-boxes and listen to the stories his grandmother told…"

"And you walked half the world over just to save him," Elsa added.

"Yes, that too." Her eyes were distant. "I would have done anything to find him." She glanced over to the Queen. "Why all the sudden questions?"

Elsa flushed and ducked her head. Gerda nodded and said primly, "My apologies, m'Lady; I suppose that's your own business, isn't it?" She placed the folded dress into her hands, and then added gravely, "But if I were you, I'd get a quick start on going after the prince."

"How did you–?"

"I'm an old woman, m'Lady; we know these things. And if there's another thing I know," she added grimly, "it's that if the Snow Queen is trying to lure you up to that palace, it means she's finally running out of time."

"Running out of time?" Elsa questioned.

The housekeeper frowned at her. "Your Majesty, don't you remember what day it is?"

Elsa had to think back for a moment, but when she realized, her eyes went wide. "Of course… it's Christmas Eve."

"And tomorrow is Christmas Day—one of the holiest days of all the year," Gerda replied. "Her powers are of cold and darkness, but on Christmas, light and warmth begin to return to the world. If she needs the shard before then, she'll use any means possible to force the prince to give it up—including you, m'lady. And if he refuses…"

"…Then she'll kill him," Elsa finished lowly. The housekeeper nodded, and both fell silent, the corridor quiet save for the howl of the winds beyond the walls.

* * *

"Try as much as you like, they certainly won't melt."

Hans looked over, startled and guilty, like a child caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. The Snow Queen was look at him disapprovingly, and he quickly extinguished the flames in his hands, which he'd been using to try to melt the icy cuffs. "You can hardly blame me for trying to escape," he retorted. "Nor would I need to if you'd just let me go."

"Actually, that's exactly about what I'd like to speak with you," said the Snow Queen, striding into the center of the room to face him. "I think it's high time we negotiated your release. So long as you meet my demands, everything will proceed quite smoothly."

"Or what, you'll turn me into an ice sculpture like you did your village?" Hans shot back.

_CRACK!_

He stumbled and nearly fell over, such was the force of the Snow Queen's blow. His cheek smarted, frostbitten, and he rubbed it, glaring up at her. "Hold your tongue," the Snow Queen snapped, "Before you lose it."

He decided, wisely, to do as told. "Now," the sorceress said coolly, beginning to pace in front of him. "The deal is very simple. I will set you free, to go wherever you wish to go, just as soon as you hand over that shard to me."

"If you want it so much, why don't you just kill me and take it?" The Snow Queen's eyes glittered dangerously, and he nodded. "Like I said, I know something about magic, your Majesty. Rules are rules. The shards have to be freely given; that's why you couldn't take it from me while I was unconscious—_and_ why Agnar tried to convince Elsa to kill me instead of doing it himself."

She snarled. "You insolent little boy! Why are you so obstinate; clearly you can't be trusted with it!"

"Oh, so you're the better option?" Hans retorted, holding up his clenched hand. "What if I decide neither of us should be trusted with it? This little piece of glass looks rather fragile; who's to say I don't accidentally drop it right on that icy fl-"

His voice died quite suddenly as he felt the icicle's point touch his neck. All around him, a ring of razor-sharp icicles had sprung to life, each poised to strike some critical part of his anatomy. Hans would have gulped if he hadn't been afraid of impaling his Adam's apple on the foremost spike.

"Let me make this very clear," the Snow Queen breathed, her face pale as death. "The Mirror is not something that can be so easily done away with. But if you so much as _try_ to destroy that shard, I will _personally_ ensure that you die a slow and agonizing demise. Do I make myself clear?"

"C-crystal," Hans gasped out, barely daring to move.

The icicles shrank back at this, and he allowed himself to breathe again. "Now," the Snow Queen said, looking as if she were trying to regain control of her temper, "Let's discuss this like adults. You and I both know you're not able to handle that fragment's power. The mirror's already turned your heart; it'll do more now that you're aware of your own power."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone; you can't make me," he said dismissively.

She laughed at that. "I don't have to _make_ you do anything. What about the town guards, hm? You would have destroyed _them_ without a second thought."

"They were chasing me; they were trying to-"

"What does it matter? You felt the anger and hatred rise up in you, don't pretend you didn't. You wanted to _end them._ And what about the Queen?"

"Leave Elsa out of this," he snapped.

"But how could I? She's so much a part of your story, so much a part of _you_. Actually," she said, raising her eyebrow and pacing a few steps away, "I'm wondering why it is that you _care._ Why should you have come to value her so suddenly? Eighteen months ago you were more than willing to take off her head. Unless…" She turned, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Why, you foolish young man. You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

Hans's mouth had fallen open, leaving him mute, defenseless. "How absolutely delicious!" the Snow Queen cackled with relish. "The murderer falls in love with his victim! And yet, you know deep down that you'll never change. How willing were you to destroy her in that chapel, young prince? You were close again, weren't you? Didn't you savor the taste of bloodlust on your tongue?" She snickered, pacing away to look at the Mirror. "You Southern princes are all monsters, born and bred," she added as she inspected some invisible flaw in her reflection, "perfect receptacles for the Mirror. You're not _quite_ as opportune as your brother, of course, but not a bad candidate all considered." She looked back to him with a smile. "And if the Queen ever makes her way up this mountain to save a miserable wretch like yourself, then rest _assured_ that you will find some way to destroy her eventually."

"But I don't have to hold out until 'eventually,' do I?" Hans sneered. He saw her eyes shift, and he nodded, sensing he'd regained the upper hand. "You see, I think I've figured something out, _your Majesty."_

"Don't play games with me, boy, you won't win."

"I don't have to win. I just have to be patient. I have all the time in the world." He stepped forward. "I know you can't kill me to get this shard, but why are you so desperate to have it now? Why not wait a few decades, see if someone else does me in or I die of old age?" Her jaw tightened, and he took another step. "Because you can't afford to wait. You need this little piece of glass _soon. _Say...by Christmas morning?"

Jagged pieces of ice shot out from the walls, an abrupt loss of control, and the prince smirked. "You said you made a deal," he relished, taking a third step. "I bet its terms are coming due. I bet you're just _desperate _to finish repairing that mirror by tomorrow because if you don't, there'll be consequences. Judging by what I saw during your little temper tantrum, you've been alive for a very long time. But I think your time's running short. I think it's almost run out."

There was a beat of silence. The Snow Queen seemed to be sizing him up—strangely, she seemed almost impressed. Hans eyed her just as coolly.

"You are a clever one, Prince Hans, I'll admit that."

"So I'm right, then."

"Perhaps you are." She seemed genuinely unruffled, and the prince felt a note of fear creep back in. "But have you worked out yet what it will cost you?"

"Pardon?"

The Snow Queen turned back to the mirror, and for the first time, Hans saw a note of sanity in her face—and a note of humanity.

"Let's say you're correct. What do you suppose will happen tomorrow at dawn, then?"

Hans shrugged, but he was beginning to feel nervous again. "How would I know? It's your contract. Either way, I'm pretty sure you won't be left on this earth to tell me."

"And the Mirror?"

"I suppose it'll go with you."

"And why would I do that?"

The voice had come from the Mirror. The witch's reflection looked back at him coldly. The Snow Queen was watching it almost warily.

"The Devil's Mirror requires a curator, an owner. If I'm gone..." She had still not turned to look at him. "It will call on someone else."

His heartbeat sounded strangely loud in his ears, loud and slow. He took a step back.

"I won't."

"Won't you?" Her voice was quiet, almost distant. "So much power, right here for the taking. And the Mirror _wants_ to be whole. Wherever you are in the world, wherever you run, it will call to you. It will always call you back."

"I won't." His voice was stronger now, and she turned at last.

"And why not?"

"Because Elsa still has the other piece," he said, his voice wavering at first, but steadying as he continued: "So long as she has it, I can't be the Mirror's sole owner. She'd stop me—one way or another." A frozen smile ghosted across his face. "I'm no match for her."

There was a glitter of something like triumph in the Snow Queen's eyes. "But if I had the Queen's shard–"

"You don't," he replied with certainty. "A very convincing fake, perhaps, but you're an ice witch; creating that would be child's play to you. Elsa's not stupid enough to give you her piece of the mirror, and I'm not stupid enough to believe you if you claim she did." He took another step back. "Like I said: I don't have to outlast you forever. Just until morning."

"You're a monster. You're _weak,"_ she snarled. "You'll give in eventually, just like every time before!"

"Try me!" he spat back.

With one swift move, she swept up his chains into her hands and, with that same inhuman strength, pulled him forward to the Mirror. Hans landed on his knees and turned his head, closing his eyes tight.

"What is it, young prince?" she asked mockingly. "Too weak to look on the truth about yourself?" She jangled the chains, and he gritted his teeth. "Powerlust will work its way into you, one way or the other. That's who you are."

"You're wrong," Hans insisted, but it was half to convince himself. He could feel the glass growing hot in his hands.

"Then why the Queen?" Her voice was triumphant. "The world is full of lovely young women; do you expect me to believe it was mere coincidence you fell in love with the one who could give you a crown?"

His resolve wavered. _Is that...? No, that's not true, that's not why I fell in love with her..._ But the burning figures in the forest flashed through his mind. Was his love for her just a mask for his love of power? Had he managed to deceive even himself this time?

_"Is he afraid to look me in the eyes?"_ his own voice jeered out from the Mirror. _"Can't even stand his own reflection, the coward."_

_It's not true,_ Hans chanted to himself. _I care about her, not just her throne. I wouldn't–_

"Just take care of my sister!"

He started at that, eyes flying open. He knew that voice. "Elsa?"

_"Your sister? She returned back from the mountain, weak and cold!"_ Too late, he realized his mistake, and found himself standing at the edge of a frozen fjord, separated only by a wall of shimmering glass as he watched his greatest crime replay itself in horrifying clarity. _"She said that you froze her heart! Your sister is dead! …Because of you."_

"No," Hans echoed, even as the mirror-Elsa repeated the same word. "You're wrong. I'm not that man anymore." The snow rolled back as the prince unsheathed his sword, and Hans felt his stomach clench painfully.

But Anna. Anna had stopped him.

The man raised the sword.

Where was Anna? Hans tried to wrench his eyes from the glass, but it was futile; there was nothing he could do to stop the scene that was unfolding.

He swung. The steel blade cut swiftly through the air–

_"You're wrong!"_

…Anna didn't come.

He was shaking, uncontrollably, unable to look away. "You have until dawn," the Snow Queen said behind him coldly. "Ask yourself how strong you are, Prince Hans. I hope you make the wiser choice—for both our sakes."

Hans hardly heard her. He felt ill. The blood on the ice leaked in a sluggish river towards him, as if it would seep out of the Mirror and into reality. Behind him, the Snow Queen swept out of the room.

* * *

"Ooh, ooh, Elsa, is it time?"

The queen glanced over as the bubbly snowman skipped up along the icy cobblestone at the bridge, wind snapping the flags along the columns like horsewhips. "It's time. Are you ready, Olaf?"

"You bet! I love adventures! With monsters and witches and magic! This'll be fun!"

Elsa looked over at her sister and Kristoff, and said dryly, "See, Anna? It'll be fun!"

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Anna insisted.

"Just because something is risky doesn't mean it's a bad idea," Elsa asserted as she readied her horse, slinging her satchel over her shoulder and picking up the lantern from the ground.

"At least let me come _with_ you!"

"No, Anna," the elder sister said sternly. "I need you and Kristoff to stay here and watch over Arendelle."

"Elsa–" Kristoff started, but the Queen cut him off.

"I know about what happened between you and Anna, but we can deal with that later. There's no one I'd rather have taking care of my people than you and my sister." She tightened her cloak and pulled the fur-lined bonnet over her ears. "No one is to follow me this time, I expressly forbid it. _Especially _not the two of you. Am I clear?" she said, pointing at the pair.

They grumbled almost in unison in a way that made Elsa question their sincerity, before Anna said, "I still don't think it's safe for you to be running up there alone."

"I won't be alone; I have Olaf."

"Gee, what a relief," Kristoff deadpanned.

"I'll be _fine,"_ Elsa assured them. "I know that mountain like the back of my hand. Just try to keep everyone warm and fed until I come back."

"And what if you _don't come back?"_ Anna demanded, voice cracking with fear.

Elsa saw how afraid she was and set down the lantern, pulling her sister into a hug. "I will," she promised. "But if worst comes to worst, then Arendelle will be in the hands of a good and capable queen."

Anna squeezed her sister tight, and then pulled back. "Please be safe," she said, worry in her eyes.

"I'll do my best." Elsa stepped away and nodded to Kristoff. "Take care of each other."

"We will," he promised. "Do you have everything you need?"

"I have extra rations and a flask of hot cider," Elsa said, peering into her bag. She noted also, but chose not to mention, the silver-clasped hymnal she'd tucked safely inside. "I wish I had some sort of weapon, but there's nowhere to hide one."

"Take this," Kristoff said, pulling the smaller of his hunting knives out of the side of his belt and handing it to Elsa. "It's a good knife; saved my life more than once. It belonged to my Ma."

"Did it?" the Queen said as she unsheathed it, surprised. It was a beautiful tool, with a single-edge blade and a white birch handle.

He nodded. "Her knives and a stolen horse were the only things she had with her when she ran away from home. She gave them to me when I was a kid."

Elsa could see how important the tool was to him—and how much he clearly trusted her if he was willing to let her use it. "I'll take good care of it," she promised, slipping the knife into the sleeve of her dress. The reindeer-hide sheath was rough against her skin, but the knife lay so flat inside the sleeve that it was almost invisible, unless one was looking for it. "I think that's everything."

"Good luck, Elsa," Anna said, biting her lip. "Be _careful."_

"I promise I will." She nodded to the last of the trio, grabbing the lantern and climbing up onto her horse. "Come on, Olaf. It's time to go."

"Okay!" He hopped up onto the horse behind her. "Let's go save Hans!"

"Who _is_ this Hans?" Anna and Kristoff murmured in unison, and then glanced at each other and chuckled. However, their momentary mirth faded as they saw Elsa turn the horse around and snap the reins. The sound of hooves on stone echoed for a moment, and then was blown away by the blizzard winds as the queen rode off into the night, leaving the princess and the ice harvester to stare worriedly into the darkness after her.

* * *

The cabin walls creaked in the force of the gale outside, but within, it was warm, and the fire crackled fiercely in the red hearth.

King Agnar knelt before it, warming his hands, letting them feel the heat. Fire was something he knew far too well, and yet he hungered to know it all the deeper still. Though he knew it was foolish, he reached a little ways further. A fiery tendril brushed up against his thumb, and he pulled back with a hiss of pain, a pain that was still too familiar for comfort.

He withdrew his hand, staring into hearth. _What's your secret?_ He knew of, though had not read extensively on, the French and Weselish chemists who had recently developed new theories on the nature of combustion, but Agnar was far more interested in the mystical and mythical power of fire—its primordial and looming presence in the psyche of man. _What is the source of your power?_ Fire, it had always seemed to him, was the very _essence_ of power: dangerous and threatening to those with no control over it, useful and beautiful to those who were able to manipulate it. All his life, the more he had suffered under it, the greater his hunger, his _craving_ to possess and understand it.

* * *

_The swords struck and parted; his father moved for a cut across the chest, and the prince dodged appropriately, returning with an attempted slice to the leg. Sweat poured in little rivulets down his forehead and into his eyes. Of his many classes and many tutors, there was no training Agnar hated more than swordsmanship lessons with his father._

_"The strong crush the weak, Agnar," the king told him shortly. "Only the conqueror deserves to live! The rest will die in the dust where they belong."_

_Their blades crossed with a sharp CLANG! "Conquerors are tyrants who are rarely admired," the prince retorted through gritted teeth, "Even rarer loved."_

_"The man who lets opportunity slips through his fingers is a spineless fool." The king disarmed him, Agnar's sword dropping to the ground. His father re-sheathed his own with clear disapproval. "Your hesitation betrays you; one day it will be your destruction."_

_"Prudence is not the same as hesitation, Father." The words tasted acerbic on his tongue._

_"There are weak and feeble countries all around us, Agnar; one day it will be your responsibility to take them under your rule. We will swallow them up into ourselves, and the Westergaard line will be remembered forever as the name which made the Isles a great and powerful nation!"_

_"And is marriage not a good enough means to that end?" he retorted. Their ongoing debate was never far from his father's mind. "The younger ones will be of proper age when the time comes, yet you would sacrifice our people in bloody war rather than seek a peaceful union!"_

_"And you would let one of your brothers hold the throne that is to be yours! You are a lazy and stupid boy, too much of a coward to seize what is yours for the taking!"_

_"Arendelle would not fall to a thousand of our ships and you know it!" he spat back._

_The moment he said it, he knew he'd gone too far. Faster than lightning, his father struck forward, disarmed him and swept his leg. The prince's back hit the ground a moment before he felt the king's hand seize his throat._

_"I do not need a thousand ships to conquer Arendelle," the king hissed. __Agnar rasped for air as the burning grip of his father's hand began to char through his vest collar. __"With this shard, I would not need a hundred!"_

_"F-Father- please-"_

_"There will come a day when they are weak. And when that happens, I will crush_ _the life out of them-" Agnar choked, "-and takes their crown for my own. And you, Agnar, will be at my side. Swear it to me."_

_"I-"_

_"Swear it to me, Agnar!" His father's eyes were blazing with rage; sparks flared in the bristles of his red beard._

_"I swear," the prince rasped. "I swear!"_

_The king clenched his hand, threatening to crush the younger man's windpipe, and then abruptly let go. Agnar lay on the ground, wheezing for air. His hand clutched at his throat, and he felt two blistered burns where the king's thumb and forefinger had branded the skin. His eyes stung._

_"You're weak, Agnar." He looked up and saw his father's harsh gaze looking down at him. "Your birthright was stolen from you, but that's no excuse for your feeble helplessness. Power comes only to those who know how to crush the weak; no one will ever respect you unless they fear you. And you will never be worthy of MY respect until you prove yourself a king!"_

_Agnar gritted his teeth against the pain and anger. "Understood, Father..."_

* * *

The king's hand brushed against his neck, and he pushed down the thick collar of his coat to find the two oval scars, now white with age, along the underside of his neck, an eternal reminder of the day he had taken up his father's jealous quest to seize Arendelle's vast resources and make the northern kingdom a country fit to be ruled.

But he was close, now. Finally, he would be worthy of his father's crown, worthy of his name. He would be strong, not weak. He would be great, not the pitiful son, robbed of his birthright, eternally falling short of his full potential. He would crush Arendelle and assume it into the Isles, and then…

_And then… what?_ A little voice whispered in the back of his head.

He pushed it forcefully aside. _And then, I will be king. I will have fulfilled father's wishes._

_Are you your father, Agnar?_

He stopped at that, unpleasantly startled, but before he could reply the door burst open, a cold gust filling the room and nearly blowing out the fire.

"Shut the door," he snapped, getting to his feet. The Snow Queen raised an eyebrow, but did as requested. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to collect your shard," she said simply.

The king said nothing for a long moment, certain he'd heard wrong. When he did, he spoke only a very low, _"What?"_

"I don't believe I stuttered, King Agnar. Your shard. Hand it over."

"We had a deal," he growled. "I would take over the shard's power-"

"Yes, and only its power," the Snow Queen said lightly. With a wave of her hand, the contract he'd signed magically appeared, hovering in midair. "The fragments are not necessary to use the mirror's magic, you know; only for forcing it onto someone else. It's not as if I carry the Mirror around with me, is it?"

The king had gone a livid red with rage. "You mean- all this time-"

"All this time, you already possessed its power in full? Yes, King Agnar, a fact which you would have known had you read the fine print," the Snow Queen said, vanishing the contract with another lithe wave. "But it's no matter; you have what you want now, don't you? Now I think that little silver box in your cloak belongs to me."

Snarling, the king retrieved the silver box and threw it to her feet. It clattered open, the fiery piece of glass skittering over the wooden floor. "This is the last business I ever conduct with you, _witch,"_ he spat as she summoned the glass with an icy breeze.

The Snow Queen brushed him off as one would an irritating fly. "Go. Take your precious kingdom. Our contract is complete." Without another word, she opened the door and stepped out.

The king hesitated, and then got to his feet, stalking out after her. "Hold on a minute, you-"

He looked around at the frozen forest. It was empty; there was not a soul to be seen. Irritated, he looked to the sky. "Well?" he demanded of the storming clouds. "How does this work, then?"

Nothing happened. Clenching his fists, he shouted, "We had a dea-!"

A sudden feeling of warmth in his chest startled him into silence. The warmth spread to his arms and legs; flames shot up along his palms as if from a gas stove. His hair flushed deep auburn, to match that of his youngest brother, and the king let out a long-suffering sigh. _"Finally," _he said, extending his hands. "That's much better."

He turned and, on impulse, flung out his hand towards a nearby tree. A steady jet of fire shot from his palm and engulfed the branches, until the tree was full ablaze. With another sweep, the fire disappeared, leaving only the seared, smoking trunk behind.

"Yes," Agnar said, grinning, _"much_ better, indeed." And without another moment's ado, he stalked off through the snows towards Arendelle, leaving a trail of melted snow and smoldering grass as he went.

* * *

The winds howled through the shadowy trees as Elsa peered into the darkness, holding the greenish lantern aloft. "Um, Elsa?" Olaf questioned loudly from the back of the horse, in an effort to be heard over the blizzard. "Aren't we supposed to be going up the mountain?"

"We will!" Elsa called back. "But not just yet. We're stopping for some help first."

A sudden gust of wind met them, startling the horse and nearly knocking Olaf off the back. "Whoa!"

"Easy boy," Elsa soothed, patting the horse's neck. "It'll be safer once we're down at the cliff bottom," she informed Olaf.

Cautiously watching for any sudden drop-offs or ledges, she guided the horse down into a ravine lined with canyon walls. Though the wind was cut off, snow still covered the ground. Here and there, hidden geysers let off puffs of steam. "This isn't right," Elsa murmured, frowning deeply.

"What isn't right?" Olaf questioned innocently.

"This snow. It shouldn't be here; the trolls never let it snow in their territory." She nudged the horse forward. "C'mon, boy."

The ravine was silent and cold; above, the wind whistled over the sheer edges of the cliff, sprinkling down the snowflakes it released upon jumping the gap to the other side. When at last the ravine widened into a clearing, Elsa pulled her mount to a sudden stop. "Oh no."

The trolls lay silently, curled up in their small, stony spheres; many were covered in tiny "hats" of lumped snow that would have been almost comical, were it not for the dreadful stillness. "Grand Pabbie!" Elsa called, jumping off her horse. "Bulda? Cliff?"

For a long moment, nothing moved, and then the rocks in unison seemed to tremble and uncurl. Many were shivering, a rather incongruous action for a rock troll. "Queen Elsa," Grand Pabbie said weakly, hurrying forward.

"How is this possible?" Elsa demanded, kneeling down in front of him. "I thought winter couldn't touch here!"

"We thought so, as well, but it appears we were mistaken." His face was troubled, even fearful. "Your Majesty, have you any idea how this has come to pass?"

Elsa removed her bonnet, revealing her dark hair. Several of the trolls gasped, crowding around. "My powers are gone," she told him sadly. "The Snow Queen tricked me into handing them over to her."

"The Snow Queen," Grand Pabbie murmured. "So the rumors are true…she has returned to Arendelle." There were murmurs among the other trolls. "I have long suspected your father was not honest with me about the origins of your curse. Is this strange winter her doing?"

"It is. Please, isn't there anything you can do?" she pleaded.

"Our magic is simple, Elsa: curing illnesses, minor healings, helping the plants to grow—gifts of the earth and of nature. The sorcery the Snow Queen possesses is rooted in powerful evil; there is little we can do to stop her."

"It's over, then," Elsa said hollowly, standing only to sit down heavily on a nearby boulder. "You were my last hope."

"I said little, my dear, not nothing." She looked over at him, surprised. "I sense there is something of little worldly value but great worth on your person—a gift, perhaps?"

"I don't know what—_oh!"_ Her eyes flew wide, and she hurriedly dug through her satchel, pulling out the hymnal. She opened it up to the page with _Deilig er Jorden_ printed thinly on the top, and there she found the rose that Hans had given to her on their last visit to that same clearing. "Do you mean this?"

"This token was given to you out of pure love, a hope that you might see it and smile," Grand Pabbie said sagely. "Gifts such as these are sacred things; they contain powers far greater than the eye at first can see." He touched the dead, dried flower, and as Elsa looked, the rose seemed to bloom to life before her eyes. The color of the petals seemed to flush into the page, and she saw in scarlet across the notes and ledger lines the image of a young man standing before what appeared to be a mirror. Behind him stood a great and terrible woman, her finger pointing to the mirror and her face harsh and cruel. "She's ordering him to do something," the troll noted.

"Then he hasn't given in!" Elsa breathed.

"Not yet. But his heart is slowly being frozen again by the Mirror."

"Frozen—_again?"_

The old troll turned stern eyes on her. "The powers of the Devil's Mirror are at their strongest when they are indirect. They do not so much coerce their victims as they do entice, suggest. How long has the prince been enchanted by its sorcery?"

"I'm not sure. Since he was a child, I think."

"I believe that when the prince realized just how far he had fallen, his will to change protected him from the Mirror's persuasions for a time. But now that he is aware of the power he possesses by it, opportunities for temptation will abound." At her bewildered look, he clarified: "The Mirror both exacerbates selfishness and grants the power to fulfill it. Before he suffered merely the former; now he is afflicted by both. You must hurry, my dear."

"I will, as fast as I can," Elsa said resolutely, getting to her feet.

"Take this with you," the troll said, closing the book and handing it to her. "Perhaps it will grant you some further aid."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, and quickly strode over to her horse, putting her bonnet back on. "Don't worry, Grand Pabbie; I'll do everything I can to make sure this winter ends."

"I know, Queen Elsa. But please, make haste," he said grimly.

Elsa nodded firmly and said, "Come on, Olaf."

"Okay!" the snowman agreed, climbing back on to the horse. Elsa snapped the reigns with a sharp _"Hap!"_ and again, the pair vanished into the forest.

Grand Pabbie watched them go, his stony countenance anxious. "Make haste, your Majesty," he repeated again, almost to himself. "Both our peoples' futures depend on it."

* * *

"Ooh, boy, is it chilly," Elsa managed through her chattering teeth. Her nose stung red with frostbite, and she could hardly see through the flying snow.

"Do you think we're almost at the top yet?" Olaf shouted from behind.

"I don't know! We could be anywhere from the base to the bridge by now; I won't know until I can see the castle!" _Or anything, in this whiteout._ "C'mon, just a little further," she urged the horse, having no idea whether or not it were true. "Just a little ways m-"

A sudden gust of wind from the north blasted them full in the face, freezing the words in her throat. Spooked, the horse whinnied and reared, tipping them both off the back.

Elsa hit the cold snow with a shriek; in the next moment, the horse whinnied again and ran back past her, disappearing down the slope.

"Wait!" She scrambled to her feet. "Come back!" she shouted uselessly into the driving winds. After a moment of shivering there alone, she realized that her horse was clearly not going to return for its mistress.

"I don't think it's coming back," Olaf said factually.

"I know it's not coming back!" Elsa snapped. When she saw the hurt look on the snowman's face, she sighed. "I'm sorry, Olaf. Now where did the lantern…"

She trailed off as she saw the broken glass lying not two feet from her boot-toes. "Oh no," she gasped, quickly kneeling down. "No no no!" She scrambled to pick up the lantern in her burgundy gloves. "Don't be out, please don't be out…"

But the lantern was quite clearly unlit. She sat back in the snow, feeling suddenly completely helpless. "Elsa?" Olaf questioned.

"We'll never find our way now," she said numbly. "Not without a lantern." She shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"Do we go back then?" Olaf questioned.

"If you keep heading down the mountain, you might be able to find the castle in a week's time. When you find Anna, tell her…" she hesitated, and then said, "tell her that I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

His creator looked at him, and Olaf suddenly felt afraid at the resigned look in her eyes. "Without my powers, I'm as vulnerable to the cold as anyone else, Olaf," Elsa said softly. "If I don't find my ice palace, I won't make it to morning."

"What about a fire? Could that keep you warm?"

"A fire with what? There's no wood up here; I didn't even think to bring any matches." _What a foolish thing to do…_

"Would that one work?"

This seemed like an odd thing to say. "What one?" Elsa replied, startled.

"That one right over there," Olaf said innocently, pointing over her shoulder. Elsa turned and looked back, frowning in confusion.

And indeed, though she hadn't seen it before, a tiny light was flickering bright in the flying snow, forward and a little ways up the slope. "But how…?" Elsa gasped, getting to her feet.

She and Olaf trudged as quickly as they could through the thick snowdrifts. The fire seemed to grow brighter and warmer in the gray wasteland as they approached. Elsa had expected it to be some sort of campfire, but when at last they stood before it, she found something quite bafflingly opposite.

The flame was indeed nearly as large as a small cooking fire, but it did not feed on any substance in particular—in fact, it didn't even touch the ground, floating just above a melted hollow in the snow. It was roughly in the shape of the flame one sees atop a candle wick, though naturally much larger, wavering slightly yet ultimately steady despite the strong winds. "What is it?" Olaf whispered, awed.

"I… don't know," Elsa said uncertainly. "Maybe Hans left it here?"

"Should we touch it?" asked the snowman, inching wide-eyed towards it.

Even as he said this, however, the flame suddenly uncurled of its own accord, making the two jump back, startled. "Oh, thank goodness you're here! I was so worried no one would come!"

It was a… person. Or at least, something very much like a small person. Elsa just stared, unable to reply. The little fire-being blushed a scarlet hue and shuffled her feet—for of course she had to be a "she," there was no doubt about that. Now that she had straightened out, it was clear that she was very small, standing no taller than Olaf's carrot nose, although she may have been smaller still, since she was still floating several inches off the ground. She wore what appeared to be a wavering dress made of the same fiery material as her person, and her hair curled wispily upwards at the top (that was what had given her the appearance of a candle). She ducked her head, seeming incredibly shy, and didn't speak again.

Olaf, ironically, was the first to regain his power of speech. "Wo-ow," he said, awestruck, as he stepped forward. "You're _amazing."_

The fire-being clasped her hands behind her back, embarrassed. "Th-thank you."

"Did Hans make you?" Elsa questioned. She nodded. "What's your name?"

"Ovn," she answered timidly. "I'm very pleased to meet you." Then, her face grew somber again. "Uncle is in terrible danger; the ice-woman has him and I don't like her, I'm sure she must be doing something just awful to him…"

"Can you take us to him?" Elsa asked urgently.

"Oh, yes, I can! I tried to go for help, but it was so cold and dark, and I didn't know if there was even anyone around, but now that you're here I'm certain it will all be alright!"

"Well, lead the way," the queen said, gesturing into the gray-white void.

"Follow me," Ovn said shyly, and began to float gracefully off in the same direction. Olaf skipped ahead towards her, and Elsa followed quickly to keep up.

Their climb took them through a particularly cold and dense layer of blasting ice; Elsa was certain that without Ovn's guiding light, she would surely have lost her way and gone tumbling headfirst into an unseen abyss more than once. Then, quite suddenly, the snow slowed and stopped, until all three found themselves standing in cold, clear air. Here above the storming cloud-layer, one could see everything clearly. The moon glittered on the snow and ice like a thousand tiny diamonds, a dazzling mirror of the starry sky. Elsa and the other two paused to drink in the crisp, wide emptiness of the night, and then they continued on their way.

Despite the drifted snow covering every feature, things were beginning to look more familiar to the queen. As Ovn brought them into a shallow ravine lined with rock faces, Elsa suddenly realized that they were nearing the palace. However, even without these landmarks, this fact would quickly have become obvious, due to the presence of one feature that was rather out-of-place.

"Marshmallow!" Elsa exclaimed, hurrying forward. The snow monster let out a rather weak groan of happiness as he saw his creator. "Oh no," she breathed, seeing how bad the damage was. Marshmallow's bad leg had come completely undone, and now the other leg and the lower part of his right arm had been severed, too. They were lying in great chunks all around, while he lay half-propped against the side of a low cliff. "What did she do to you?" Elsa whispered, voice laced with anger.

He let out another groan, this one sadder, and gestured towards Elsa. The Queen shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sweetie; I can't. Mama lost her ice powers."

Marshmallow let out a very depressed-sounding sigh, and Ovn added, "The ice-woman's giants cut him to pieces. I tried to help him, but I only melted the snow."

Elsa's eyes had narrowed; her mouth was set in a firm line. "Olaf, Ovn, you stay here with Marshmallow, alright?" she said, standing and turning to them. "Try to patch him up a little; see if you can't get his arm reattached."

"I promise to do my best!" Olaf said resolutely, marching over to the other snowman. "You're going to be o-kay now, Marshmallow! Your big brother Olaf's here to help!"

After instructing the two beings not to follow her, the queen continued up the slope on her own. As she turned the last corner towards her palace, she felt her mouth fall open.

The castle Elsa had built with her own two hands, her second home and refuge, had been vandalized nearly beyond recognition. Great chunks littered the ground around her, sharp and clear as broken glass The intricate, delicate stairway was gone, replaced by a grandiose flight made of thick, solid ice steps with jagged edges that narrowed at the top to fit the doorway. The balcony had been redone in similar style, and sharp icicles jutted out at awkward angles from the castle, as if piercing through the sides. Two gigantic ice statues, golem-like and imposing, stood on either side of the stairs. The whole design seeming almost crude compared to the elegance and grace that Elsa had originally envisioned—crude, unwelcoming and formidable.

Ice crunched beneath her boot soles as she walked forward, and she stopped as her toe nudged against something. She looked down to see one of the beautiful ice spires that had adorned the tops of the towers. Elsa picked it up, feeling anger boil inside her. This had been hers, and hers alone, save for those treasured few with whom she'd agreed to share it; now someone had invaded it and destroyed everything beautiful about it. She dropped the spire, hands curling into angry little fists.

The noise echoed through the empty mountain, and ahead of her, something moved. Elsa darted behind a rock as what she'd mistaken to be statues stood and pointed their fiercely sharp ice spears. She held perfectly still, not even daring to breathe, as the guards looked this way and that. Eventually, they seemed to decide that they had heard nothing, and went back to their neutral position.

The queen let out a little sigh of relief, and then bit her lip, thinking. She'd built the castle specifically with one door: one way in, and one way out, not counting the windows or balcony. Something told her that the snow guards wouldn't kill her, but they'd definitely bring her to the Snow Queen, with whom Elsa had been hoping to avoid a confrontation—at least, until it was on her own terms. That meant that if she wanted even to get inside the castle to speak privately with Hans, she'd have to somehow get past the guards. She closed her eyes, thinking. How to do it? How to–

The briefest of images flashed through her mind: Anna's grinning face right after she'd smacked Elsa in the back with a snowball all those weeks ago. Of course! That was it; she could trick them the same way Anna had tricked her. It would be risky—she doubted that their first line of attack was throwing a puny snowball, and then of course she'd won the fight with Anna, after all—but it was better than sitting around trying to come up with another plan while Hans could be freezing to death inside.

Scooping up a snowball into her gloved hand, Elsa formed it into a ball and then threw it as hard as she could down the slope. It made a slight noise, but not loud enough. Frowning, she tried again, and was met with the same result.

Inspiration struck her as she saw the broken spire lying just out of reach. She hesitated, and then peeked around the rock. The guards were still standing utterly still. Crouching down, she reached her hand out, a little bit at a time, sure that at any moment they'd see her red mittens and then all would be lost.

Her glove tapped against something cold and hard, and Elsa grabbed a hold of it, pulling it back. She held her breath, and then let out a sigh when nothing happened. Standing back up, she held the spire like a javelin and threw it in the same direction as the snowballs.

The loud sound of breaking ice drew the guard's attention, and they stomped off down the hill. Elsa pressed herself against the rock, and then hurried up the stairs and to the front door once they were past. She quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

The interior of the castle was even worse damaged than the exterior. The foyer floor was covered in great, menacing icicles that jutted up at every angle, forcing Elsa to step around them carefully. The elegant ice fountain that had served as the centerpiece for the room had been unceremoniously smashed, its bowls and plumes lying in shattered fragments around the base. Its little beads of ice were scattered across the floor. Elsa gulped and made sure to step carefully; one misstep could end with a queen shish-kebab.

The two sets of stairs had been redone in the same angular style, and Elsa climbed the nearest flight carefully, not wanting to slip. When she reached the top, she peeked into the balcony room.

The damage here was by far the worst. The room's delicate snowflake and flower carvings had been shattered, the flower heads smashed from their stems and the snowflakes' arms broken off like panes of shattered glass. At the the far end of the room stood a single chair, a great empty throne made of ice, surrounded by debris. Her heart nearly broke at the sight; she'd created those designs specifically for Anna, on one of their many summer picnics to the palace, as a gesture of friendship between her gentle wintry spirit and sister's summery personality. The Snow Queen had destroyed it purely out of spite.

The 'renovations' only continued as she ascended higher. On the third floor of her palace were the rooms she'd created as necessity spaces when she'd believed she would spend the rest of her life there. The kitchens had been reduced to rubble; the dining room table split in three jagged-edge pieces. Only the room that she'd once intended to be her bedchambers (complete with a delicate four-poster bed and sheer comforters) was left intact, although it had been changed in style. A great snowy blanket lay over the bed, like a fur, and ornate, almost garish frost carvings covered the walls.

There was only one floor left, that of the cupola—the tallest point on the castle. She'd created the room to be simply ornamental, and serve as a lookout point if she'd ever had need of one. While she was worried that both Hans and the Snow Queen would be in there, she knew she had to check.

Her footsteps clinked on the ice as she ascended the stairs to the cupola. Though it was the smallest room in the castle, it was still quite large, larger than Elsa's bedroom back in the Arendelle castle. When she entered, she knew instantly that Hans was there, as was something… else.

The prince's wrists had been cuffed in ice, the bindings of which were attached to long chains of the same material, rooted in the center of the room. He was kneeling before a shimmering, glittering scarlet-and-cerulean pane of glass in a gilt frame. Even from across the room, she could see only three small spaces, confirming her theory about the Mirror's near-completion. She shifted her gaze to Hans. Elsa could tell he was dangerously pale; his red hair stood in sharp distinction to the back of his neck, and even his cream shirt seemed darker than his skin. He was shivering despite the unfamiliar overcoat about his shoulders, but didn't seem to notice the cold, or if he did, he made no attempt to find some way to warm himself. Little lights seemed to glimmer around him here and there, flashing and then dying out again.

"Hans?" Elsa called tentatively, her voice echoing in the empty space. When she received no response, she tried again. "Hans, are you alright?"

He started at the second call, and stood, turning around. It was then that Elsa realized the little lights she'd seen were actually sparks and small candle-flames; they seemed to crawl up his arms, searing his sleeves and flickering at the edges of the coat. His face, too, was paler than normal, freckles visible even from across the room as dark pinpricks on his pallid flesh.

"Elsa?" He stared at her, stunned, as if unwilling to believe it could really be her. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to bring you back," she answered calmly.

"Back?" He walked towards her, seemingly unable to help himself, though he did so warily, like a wounded animal.

"To Arendelle."

_Arendelle._ Hans could see the country like a map in his mind's eye. Full of towns, villages, people who'd bow down to him, cower at his feet if only he had the power to rule them— "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Hans, you have nothing to be afraid of. Your powers can be controlled," she assured him, glancing towards his hands. "Believe me, I should know."

"It's not the magic I'm afraid of controlling." His voice was so grim that Elsa felt a thin wisp of dread enter her heart. "You heard your captain's report, I'm sure." She watched as he sent a sphere of flame leaping easily, almost idly, between his palms, and felt a stab of jealousy at how quickly he'd mastered it.

"How did you learn how to–"

"I've been watching you for nearly a month now. Love will thaw, right?" He glanced up with a rueful half-smile which quickly faded. "Elsa, you shouldn't be here; you need to go."

_"We _need to go," she corrected. "Hans, if you came back with me, I could explain to my people what happened at Emilstad; they'd understand–"

"They wouldn't. I've broken their trust enough times; this was the last straw." He extinguished the ball of flame without meeting her eyes. "Besides, it's better this way."

"Chained up and imprisoned?" Elsa demanded. "You'll forgive me if I don't see that as being the better alternative."

"Don't you understand? This is what I deserve," he said, gesturing to the cuffs in a way reminiscent of the manner she had not so long ago. "Chained up and imprisoned is where I belong."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? The only noteworthy thing I ever did with my life was trying to kill you," he reminded her tiredly. "Elsa, please just go. The further apart we are, the safer you'll be."

"Hans, I know that's what the Snow Queen's made you believe, and– and I know that what happened in the chapel didn't help–" He visibly flinched at the mention of their duel, "–but we can discuss that later. Right now, I need you to trust me." She held out her hand. For a moment, he seemed ready to consider it, looking at her hand with an expression of internal debate on his face. He uncurled his hand, little flames dancing along the fingertips, and began to reach out hesitantly, about to take hers. Perhaps they _could_ work through this. Perhaps, despite everything, things could still be fixed. His fingers were a hair's breadth from hers.

And then, from the mirror behind him, he heard a faint and horribly familiar _shing!_

Hans felt himself go paler still, and quickly retracted his hand, clenching it into a fist. "No. Elsa, you have to leave. Now, before the Snow Queen comes back. It'll be worse if she catches you here."

"I am not leaving unless you're with me," she said firmly. She took a step forward.

More fear, more panic. Embers were flickering in the air; Hans could feel the fire burning, surging through his veins, hungry for things he didn't trust himself to possess. She wanted to bring him back down to Arendelle, warm and trusting and _desperate_ Arendelle, and Elsa—she was really _here_, looking so lovely in the blue wool dress and bonnet, close enough to reach out and touch. _Too_ close, to him—and to the Mirror.

He made an instinctive decision. With an outward motion of his hands, a line of hungry flames appeared between them, dancing on the ice as if the cold had no effect. The Queen took a startled step backward. "Elsa, I don't want to hurt you," he said tersely. "You know this is a trap; just go back to Arendelle and protect your piece of the Mirror."

The Queen swallowed. "Hans—I can't do that."

"What do you mean you–"

She pulled off her cap. Hans stopped dead and stared as her glossy dark braid fell over her shoulder. For a long moment, there was silence.

"Elsa, what have you done?" the prince whispered.

"The Snow Queen tricked me into giving up my powers." She took a step forward. "Hans, listen to me–"

But he stepped back. His eyes had gone round as dinner plates; fire began to spread along the floor in wavering bands, like the northern lights. "Hans–"

"No..."

"We need to leave," Elsa said sharply, _"now, _before the Snow Queen convinces you to give up that shard!"

"You don't understand what you've done!" His face had gone white, his hands shaking. Water from the melted ice began to run along the floor and then froze again as it escaped the fire.

"It's okay," she reassured him as he began to panic. "I can help you control it–"

"_No, you can't!"_ He stepped back, closer to the glass. "This isn't about magic, Elsa, it's about the Mirror!"

"I know," she insisted. "I know what it does, I know how it corrupts people. But you can fight it, you can–"

"_How?! _I've never been able to before!" His voice was pitched with panic. "For pity's sake Elsa, I thought Anna was naïve, but you take it to a new level! Stop pretending I'm good when all the evidence you have is to the contrary!"

"All the evidence I've seen tells me that you've changed."

"No, it means I'm a really good _liar–" _He cut himself off abruptly as he noticed the flames spreading across the icy floor. "Dammit, no, stop it, _stop…"_

"You need to calm down. Panicking will only make it worse–"

"_Shut up!"_

But he wasn't looking at her; instead, he'd whirled around to face the mirror."I beg your pardon!" said Elsa, affronted.

"Not you! It's the—can't you hear it?" Her baffled expression made his expression twist in panic. "No, _no…"_

""H-Hans-?"

_Oh-oh oh-oh…_

"I'm not listening to you—_ENOUGH!"_

"Hans," she stepped forward, "who are you talking to…?"

_Oh-oh, oh-oh…_

His head was ducked, jaw gritted, but his ear was turned towards the mirror. "I can hear you," he ground out. "But I won't…"

"Some flee at trouble." She stepped forward. "I swear I won't."

His eyes refocused on hers, colder now. "There's a thousand reasons I should send you on your way."

"Wouldn't be the first time you've underestimated me." _Oh-oh-oh…_

She crossed the line of the fire, reached out, and took his hand.

"_Oh-oh…"_

He wrenched his hand away. "I've got you fooled," he jabbed his finger, "but I know exactly who I am." He moved away. "And this hunger here inside me has a hundred new demands."

"Everyone who loves you wants you back inside our walls."

He laughed brokenly. "I'm sorry, lovely siren, but I'm blocking out your calls."

"I know who you once were–" She held out a hand, "And I've seen who you can be. I can help you if you'd just trust and follow me–"

"Into the unknown!"

"Into the unknown!"

"Into the unknown!"

_Oh-oh!_

_Oh-oh!_

"Let me help you!"

"You don't know me!"

"I can show you!"

"You/_can't_ can't/_you _trust me!"

Fire suddenly blasted everywhere across the room. Elsa gasped and stepped out of the way just in time, heat searing the edges of her skirt. Hans clenched his hands tight. "Elsa, go! _Please!"_

"Not without y–"

She cried out again as a wall of fire suddenly appeared at her back, and she was forced to step forward as the flames roared, radiating heat like hellfire against her face. She stumbled, staggered—and before she knew it she was in front of the mirror. She caught one, terrifying glimpse of Hans's face—harsh as stone—before she turned.

And she _saw._

When it was over, she turned, trembling. Hans wasn't meeting her eyes, but his expression was dull with despair.

"Go _home, _Elsa."

"H-Hans—you wouldn't–"

"We both know I would."

She stared. His jaw set itself as he turned, and he raised his hand menacingly. A sphere of flame appeared.

"Go home, your Majesty. Before you get hurt."

She gaped. He took a step towards her, and she stumbled back.

"Go," Hans growled, _ "Home."_

She didn't have time to answer; a cold gust of wind from the stairwell abruptly snuffed out the flames, and both looked over. "Well, what do we have here?" the Snow Queen said, smiling. "Queen Elsa, what a magnificent surprise."

"She was just leaving," Hans said quickly.

"I was not!" Elsa snapped furiously.

The Snow Queen looked over to the prince, raising a cold eyebrow. New tongues of fire danced over his fingers. "Why, Hans. Did we get a little out of hand, hm?"

He looked down at his hands, face filled with shame. "I-"

"And trying to send away such a lovely young lady; really, we must work on your manners. Why, she's our honored guest!" She looked between them, and then a sudden idea struck her, and she smiled. "And have you told her the good news?"

"Good news?" Elsa questioned mistrustfully.

"Why, you shy young man; you haven't, have you? Well, I'll spare you the embarrassment and do it myself, no need to thank me."

"No—please," Hans pleaded, but the sorceress continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"Queen Elsa, you'll be delighted to know that the handsome prince here has fallen madly in love with none other than your royal self."

Elsa's mouth fell open. She looked to Hans, who was wringing his hands and refusing to meet her eyes. His expression was one of horrible mortification. "…W-What…?" she stammered, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Oh, it's quite true! Yes, he's terribly infatuated with you, your Majesty; just ask him yourself!"

"Hans?" Elsa questioned, stunned.

He wasn't looking at her; he'd closed his eyes, cringing in utter humiliation. "Oh, the poor man's simply shy," the Snow Queen added with false pity. "Come, Queen Elsa; let's give him a little privacy." Icy chains suddenly curled themselves around Elsa's arms, and the sorceress began to drag her towards the exit.

"Hans!" Elsa cried out, struggling against her bonds. "Hans, don't give it to her! _Whatever happens, d__on't give in!"_

"Elsa–!" The prince turned to look, but it was too late; he caught one last glimpse of the blue-clad maiden, before the Snow Queen pulled her out of sight.

* * *

**A/N: See you all tomorrow! God bless, Merry Christmas and _Pax et Bonum!_**


	39. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: Arachnerd217: Thanks for the inspiration I needed for angry!Hans lol. Enjoy. :) **

* * *

"Kai."

The door at the top of the tower had opened behind him, but the footman hadn't noticed until he heard his name. He looked over to see his wife watching him with worried eyes.

"Kai, you need to come inside," Gerda urged him, crossing her arms against the winds buffeting them on all sides. "Before you catch cold."

The manservant pulled his jacket tighter but didn't move. "That poor young man," he murmured. "Trapped in that awful place, all alone…"

"The Queen will bring him back," Gerda said stoutly.

"Will she?" Kai said grimly. "The innocence of a child is the best defense against the Snow Queen; Elsa has not been a child for a very long while. She grew up faster than any girl should have to."

"She's never failed us before."

"She's never faced an enemy like this before!" Kai said vehemently, turning to her. "You know what the Snow Queen is capable of, Gerda, you know what she does to people! Even if Elsa reaches that castle, even if she gets inside and even _if_ she finds the prince, how will she manage to pull him away from that mirror? He may not even recognize her."

The woman reached up and touched her husband's face tenderly. "You recognized me," she reminded him gently.

Kai reached up to cover her hand with his own and sighed tiredly. Many years had passed since those childhood days, but even now they remembered. _"Where roses deck the flowery vale, there, infant Jesus, Thee we hail,"_ they murmured together.

The two embraced each other tightly. "She'll find him," Gerda promised firmly. Kai nodded, and they parted, together stepping back inside the tower and out of the swirling snows.

* * *

Elsa was still shouting the prince's name when the Snow Queen pulled her into room. "Hans! Hans, can you hear me?! I-"

"Oh for pity's sake, would you be _quiet!"_ the sorceress snapped irritably. The oath startled the queen so much that she fell silent, and the Snow Queen sighed. "Much better. Now, let's have a _civilized_ discussion, monarch to monarch."

"I'm not discussing anything until you unchain me," Elsa said furiously. With an annoyed scoff, the Snow Queen waved her hand, and the chains dissipated into snow-dust, falling to the floor. "…Thank you," Elsa added grudgingly. She looked around and found herself in the balcony room. The smashed flowers glittered in pieces around her feet.

"To business then," the Snow Queen said, all traces of false courtesy gone. "What are you doing in my castle?"

"I could ask you the same question," Elsa retorted coldly. "Besides, I thought you wanted me here?"

The Snow Queen chuckled. "You're smarter than you look, Queen Elsa. Yes, I wanted you to follow the prince up here. I'm just curious as to how you got past my guards. Speaking of 'here,' do you like what I've done with the place?"

Elsa's eyes were narrowed. "In case I wasn't clear, I don't take kindly to people invading my home and threatening my people," she said sharply.

"You're really quite a foolish little girl, your Majesty; if you were hoping to deter me, you ought to have brought up at least a small guard, instead of coming alone."

"You know just as well as I that a guard would be little use against you."

"Please, Queen Elsa, let's not play games. You're here, alone, because you couldn't _bear_ risking anyone else following you and getting themselves hurt for you—like your precious sister. But someone as _noble_ as you just had to come up here and try to persuade me to spare your people."

Elsa felt her self-assurance begin to falter at being spoken to like a foolish child. "Thankfully for you, I am a woman of reason," the Snow Queen said coolly. With a gesture of her hands, a desk and two chairs arose from the ice. "Please, sit. We must do this properly, after all."

Uncertainly, Elsa took the first chair. "Now," said the sorceress. "Let's discuss terms."

"Terms?" the Queen repeated, trying to sound surer of herself than she felt.

"Naturally. This is a diplomatic situation, Queen Elsa. As the superior sovereign, I will go first. My demands are rather simple: you help me persuade the prince to turn over that shard."

"Never," Elsa spat.

"Now, Queen Elsa, don't be hasty. You wouldn't want to jeopardize your kingdom, would you?"

This gave her pause, and the Snow Queen smiled. "Ah, I thought that might pique your interest. What say you, your kingdom's safety for your help?"

"The last time I made a deal with you, I was cheated."

"Come now, you can't blame that on me; it's not my fault you were too foolish to clarify the details."

Elsa curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palm. "You will release my kingdom—_and_ Prince Hans."

"The prince? Oh, of course, I forgot—you're 'friends,'" the Snow Queen said, rolling her eyes. "Speaking of which, tell me, what exactly are your thoughts on that interesting little tidbit, hm? Quite preposterous that he should have feelings for you, isn't it?" When Elsa didn't answer, the sorceress's icy eyes went wide. "Oh-ho! So you're infatuated with him as well, then!"

"I thought this was a diplomatic discussion," Elsa said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, but it is, Queen Elsa, and a whole new realm of possibilities has suddenly opened up to us," the sorceress replied. "The fair queen falls in love with the criminal! It's nearly perfect."

"What are you-"

"Consider it, Queen Elsa: your kingdom, the great jewel of all the earth, the kingdom where the sun shines and the rain falls, where crops grow and people live in warmth and luxury. And at your side, the very man you would never have had otherwise. The happy monarchs of a happy kingdom."

Elsa had fallen silent. The Snow Queen smiled coldly. "Rather appealing terms, don't you agree?"

"…If Hans gives you the shard," Elsa said slowly, "…what will happen?"

"With the Mirror complete, my power will allow me to cast the whole world into an icy curse—sparing Arendelle, naturally."

"Sacrifice the whole world for Arendelle's sake? I couldn't…"

"Please, don't be so dramatic," the Snow Queen said, rolling her eyes. "It's not as though the whole world would be cursed _forever._ Your Majesty, it's really quite simple: in this happy, prosperous kingdom of yours, you and your people will pay homage but once a month to the merciful goddess of the snows, who spares you for your right reverence. Surely other nations will want to follow suit, to save their own subjects from starvation and cold. The whole world will look to you as their generous leaders—all in exchange for your promise to incite your subjects to worship me."

There was a long silence, as Elsa looked down at the table, thinking. At last, she raised her blue eyes and said heavily, "I'll need time to prepare. Hans is not an easy man to convince."

The Snow Queen smiled. "Naturally, your Majesty. I shall tell him you'll see him again shortly." As both stood, she waved her hand, and the desk and chairs disappeared. She turned to go.

This was the chance Elsa had been waiting for. In an instant, she'd drawn the knife from within her sleeve and took two quick steps forward—

—A hand caught hers.

She gasped, stunned, as the Snow Queen smiled. "Oh, you wicked little girl girl," she laughed. "I applaud the attempt, but treachery is on _my_ side of the line, not yours. You ought to know better than to tread on your enemy's ground."

She wrenched the knife from Elsa's hand and held the queen's arm fast with a grip like iron. Elsa let out a sharp cry as the Snow Queen made a shallow but wide cut along her palm. "This should work nicely," the witch said, dropping the knife. It clattered to the floor as she ripped the blue bonnet from the queen's other hand and stained the white fur along the bottom red with Elsa's blood. "Stop struggling, you stupid girl!"

She threw Elsa against the ice wall; the human queen crumpled like a rag doll. The Snow Queen looked at her, unimpressed. "My word, you really _are_ an idiot; how you got to ruling a kingdom I'll never know."

"Hans still has the last shard," Elsa snarled, struggling to sit up. "And he'll never give it to you."

"Won't he?"

The Snow Queen was smiling at her. Elsa felt her certainty draining away.

"Y-You're wrong. He's not who he once was."

"No. He's not. He's gone soft. He's almost quenched the shard's power."

"Th-then how do you–"

"I don't need _him, _Queen Elsa. I need the shard. Now, perhaps _I _can't kill him, but…" She raised her brows and looked down at the bloodied bonnet, and Elsa felt her blood freeze in her veins.

"No," she whispered. "He won't. He wouldn't–"

"The prince is quite intelligent. He's worked out that if I don't repair the Mirror by dawn, it will try to find a new owner." She raised her satisfied eyes to the young queen, whose face was draining of blood. "So much power. One very, very weak man."

"He _wouldn't–"_

"Maybe. Maybe not. The question is, is that a risk the prince wants to take?" The Snow Queen shrugged. "He can die and leave me the last shard, or he can take his chances on resisting the Mirror's pull. Either way, he becomes the monster he fears he is. And if he believes you're gone, the only question is whether he wants to live with that reality or not."

"Please," Elsa whispered. "Please, don't do this."

"He tried to end himself once before. I don't imagine the choice will take him long."

_"You–"_

Elsa scrambled to her feet and tried to reach the sorceress, but the Snow Queen merely stepped back and laughed as the icy chains reappeared and snapped tight, holding the queen at bay. "You've helped me marvelously, dear. I really should thank you. With your death on the prince's hands, his decision will be infinitely simpler."

"You're foul! Heartless!"

"And you're a hypocrite and a fool. Goodbye, Queen Elsa. I'll leave the knife with you in case you wish to follow the prince." She waved her hand, and great walls of glassy ice arose in a hexagon from the ground. The chains turned to snow as Elsa rushed forward, trying to get to the door, but it was too late; the walls closed around her, and the Snow Queen vanished from view.

Elsa pounded at the wall for a moment, before realizing it was useless. She stepped back, breathing hard, and took a moment to assess her situation. Blood still dripped from between her fingers, so she tore a strip from the satchel and wound it around the bloody but thankfully superficial wound. She bit her lip hard and tried not to make a noise as she tied it snug, and then scooped up the dropped knife and tried to chip away at the wall with it. It was no use; the blade skittered off as if the wall were made of diamond and not ice. She dropped it and emptied out the rest of her satchel onto the ground, trying to find some other tool. Of course, all she found were the extra biscuits, the little flask of hot cider and her hymnal, which tumbled out and fell open to the page marked by the dried rose. Elsa sighed in frustration and ran her fingers through her bangs, turning around.

She stopped, startled, for there was someone else in the room. Just opposite her, on the other side of the ice-wall that blocked off the balcony, stood a dazzling woman with brilliant blue eyes and jet-black hair, which spiked up at the top around what appeared to be an icy replica of Elsa's royal crown. Her dress was formed entirely of blue ice-crystals, with a wide, arched collar framing her pale face.

"H-hello?" Elsa stammered, walking over. The woman walked towards her, her stride in step with the queen's. "Can you help me? I'm trapped in here and can't break down the walls."

The woman didn't reply, but she did stop on the other side of the ice even as Elsa did the same. Something about her seemed very familiar. Something–

It hit Elsa like a ton of bricks: this woman wasn't real. She was a reflection…_her_ reflection, although not quite the same. "Are you… me?" Elsa asked, frowning.

Her reflection, of course, didn't answer. Cautiously, Elsa lifted her bandaged hand. The woman did the same. In unison, they touched the mirror, tilting their heads in curiosity. Then, quite suddenly, the reflection smiled of its own volition.

"Good evening, Elsa."

* * *

Anna turned on her heel and began to retrace her path down the length of the picture room again. Kristoff watched her as she passed in front his seat on the nearby sofa, an eyebrow raised. "You know, pacing's not going to do anything," he informed her bluntly.

"I can't help it. She's in trouble, I just know she is," Anna said, frowning deeply.

"You can't know that for sure."

"Yes I can. My sister senses are tingling."

"Sister senses?"

She smacked him on the shoulder as she passed him by. "They're a thing!"

"They're so not a thing."

"Are too! Besides, how would you know?" She turned again. "I just keep feeling like she's in really big danger—like I'm supposed to be helping her or something."

"Like what, go running out into a blizzard without any actual proof she's in trouble? C'mon, Anna; we don't even know if–"

"Princess Anna! Sir Kristoff!"

Both turned, startled, as a guard appeared at the end of the door, flushed and out of breath. "Your Highness- we thought we should tell you-"

"Tell me what? What happened?" Anna demanded, hurrying over.

"The Queen's horse—it just came down the bridge. A few of the guards managed to calm it down-"

"Elsa's horse? You're sure?"

"Yes, your Highness. And the queen wasn't on it."

Anna's face had gone pale, and she nodded. "Okay. Thanks." The guard bowed and left as she turned to Kristoff. "See? I told you so! That horse was Elsa's only way down the mountain; she wouldn't just let it run away! Something really bad must have happened!"

Kristoff's expression had turned grim. "You're right. She's in trouble."

"Yeah, I know, now let's go!" She grabbed his arm in an attempt to bring him along.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on, feistypants," the harvester said firmly, pulling his arm out of her grip. "We can't just go charging up the mountain; Elsa left us in charge for a reason. Who's going to take care of Arendelle?"

"Elsa also said there'd be no Arendelle left to be taken care _of_ if the Snow Queen wasn't stopped—and if Elsa's in serious trouble, there's probably not a whole lot of witch-stopping going on up there."

He considered this, and then nodded. "Okay. But we have to tell your council; they'll need to know what to do if worst comes to worst."

"Fine; now hurry!" She grabbed his elbow again, pulling him out of the room.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not."

Anna scowled. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was asking for your permission."

"Your Highness, we can't afford to lose you! You're the only remaining heir to the throne!" Kai exclaimed. The rest of the council nodded and agreed in terms to the same effect.

"A throne that's going to be one more thing thirty feet deep in snow if we don't go up there," she countered. "My sister's in serious trouble; _Arendelle_ is in serious trouble! I have to save her!"

"But at what cost, your Majesty?" exclaimed Lady Evjen. "If you died-"

"I'll die anyway if that creepy witch decides to turn us all into popsicles—which is _exactly_ what I've got to stop from happening!"

"But Queen Elsa said-"

"Oh, who _cares_ what Elsa said?!" Anna nearly shouted, losing her temper. Several of the councilors jumped. "She's not perfect, you know; she doesn't always know what's best for her!"

"Your Highness," one of the ladies said timidly, "The Queen's word is law."

"Yeah? Well she was my sister before she was my queen. And it's my job to look out for her, whether she likes it or not."

"Hans is in trouble," Kristoff chimed in a grave tone, setting a calming hand on the princess's shoulder. "Elsa may be, too. And if the Snow Queen isn't stopped, it won't matter what _any_ of us do. Someone has to go up there and fix this."

The councilors fell silent at this ominous declaration. Finally, Willum said pensively, "Your parents named you well, Sir Kristoff. Guardian and guide."

"Sir?" the harvester said, startled.

The bishop's expression was solemn. "Queen Elsa in her wisdom left the both of you in charge, so I say we take your advice as if it were her own. Moreover, I would trust no other man than you, Sir Kristoff, to bring the princess safely up that mountain and back again. But the danger is not negligible. If the two of you do not return, what are your orders for this council?"

Kristoff looked to the other councilors, nearly all of which were watching them expectantly. He glanced at Anna, who was biting her lip and looking up at him, hoping he had some sort of solution. He thought hard for a moment, closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, his face seemed set. "Alright, here's what you do," he said brusquely. "If we aren't back by dawn—or when dawn should be, anyway—start evacuating everyone south. The seas are probably frozen over, so you'll have to travel by foot; keep on until you reach the southern provinces. It's warmer there; you can survive long enough to figure out what to do."

"But to travel by foot, in this sort of weather!" Lord Frandsen exclaimed. "There's no telling how long it would take; no one could survive that!"

"They could," Kristoff insisted. "You've got people right here in this castle who do it all the time. You take what you need—foodstuffs, your animals, the bare necessities—and you go on sled, living in temporary shelters as you travel."

The council stared at him. "You are suggesting," Lord Finnmork said finally, voice incredulous, "That we are to live as _nomads?"_

"If that's what it takes to survive, then yes."

"Well, Mr. Bjorgman," he said testily, "perhaps _you're_ used to living like a vagabond, but the rest of us subscribe to a certain standard of existence! I for one would rather die than tramp about the countryside like a penniless itinerant!"

"Fine; if you stay here long enough, I'm sure you'll have your wish," Kristoff said flatly. "As for the rest of you, if the people of this town are to survive, I suggest you take my advice."

_"Your_ advice!" the nobleman snapped, drawing the attention back to himself. "You're nothing but a half-witted commoner, an unsophisticated buffoon who hitherto sold _ice_ for a living! Why would they ever take _your_ advice?!"

"Lord Finnmork, I would urge you listen to Sir Bjorgman," Willum said sharply. "He is a good man with much common sense, and more to it, he is soon to be your prince."

"He's not our prince yet," Lord Finnmork spat, face red with fury. "And the day a Laplander oaf sits on the throne of Arendelle is the day I immigrate to Greenland!"

"Okay, that's_ it!"_ Anna yelled, finally losing her temper, and every head turned to look to her. "Don't you _ever,"_ she snapped furiously, pointing her finger in Lord Finnmork's nose, "talk about Kristoff that way _again!_ He's brave and he's smart and he's a much _nicer_ person than you, and you'd be lucky to have him as your prince!"

"Anna–"

"You might think you're so great just 'cause you're nobility, but really you're nothing but a pompous jerk! You didn't get elected to this council; you're only here because some royal gave your family your title. Well _news flash, _bucko, I could give a title to anyone I like! I could give Kristoff your whole territory right now if I wanted to, so you can just–"

"Anna, I got this."

She fell silent, surprised. Kristoff had risen to his feet. With a short nod, she stepped aside.

"Let me tell you something about my _people,_ Lord _Finnmork."_ There was a steely look in Kristoff's eyes. "Your great-grandfather was a general in the royal army, if I remember right." The lord opened his mouth, but Kristoff cut him off. "Yeah, I know who you are. All of _us_ know who you are. Ever since your great-grandfather conquered the north march for Arendelle, since _your_ ancestors took the land away from _mine, _you've tried to scrub us out of living memory, even out of our own."

The rest of the council was staring. Even Anna was agawp. It was the first time that Kristoff had spoken publicly about his family—and it was the first time, Anna noticed, that he was doing so with squared shoulders and pride in the set of his chin.

"You've built dams that _destroyed_ our homes and _forced_ us to accept a new religion. You tell our kids not to speak our own language. Your father wouldn't let us _own our own land!"_ He pointed a finger at the lord. "My mother _lived_ and _died_ in poverty because of people like you."

"Your family were _thieves,"_ Lord Finnmork snapped back.

"Yeah, well, funny thing about poverty, but people like to eat," Kristoff retorted. "But that's not the point. The point is, however much you might hate it, we _didn't_ forget. _Mii muitit. _Mun_ muittán." _Lord Finnmork's face fell. "And you'd better be _glad _we remember. Because believe it or not, we might be your best chance of surviving this storm. We've certainly survived a lot worse."

The lord had the good sense not to respond. Kristoff looked around, face still set, though now a tad red. "And in case you've forgotten," he added, "I'm Arendellian, too. As much as any of the rest of you. And so are people like Sáppa and the rest."

"Of course they are." He glanced at Anna, who was glaring ferociously at Lord Finnmork. Slowly, the lord sat back down.

The rest of the council didn't dare speak a word. "…Alright then," said Willum carefully at last, a little intimidated himself. "Now that that's been resolved…what says the council to Sir Bjorgman's plan? Yay or nay?"

The councilors glanced around. "Yay," said Lord Frandsen.

"Yay," Lady Evjen agreed.

The rest of them (save Lord Finnmork, who wisely remained silent) replied in kind, and Anna nodded. "Great. So, hopefully we'll all see you by morning, and if not…well, best of luck."

This was, of course, not exactly the most encouraging of sentiments.

* * *

Elsa yanked her hand back, startled. "What in the-"

"Come now, you must have known we would meet _someday,"_ her reflection said disdainfully. "Face-to-face, that is; you know my voice well enough."

"Meet? Who- who are you?"

The reflection laughed. "Oh, Elsa. Don't you realize? I'm _you."_

The Queen stared. "Well, not you as you know yourself," mirror-Elsa amended coolly, beginning to walk the circle around the room. "I'm the you _you_ like pretend doesn't exist. But you can't quite get rid of me, can you? That little voice inside your head; that ugly part of you that deep down, you sometimes like to let out for a little _fun."_

"Wh-what are you talking about?" The queen wanted to sound defensive, but she came off sounding more like a frightened child.

"Oh, you don't remember?" her doppelganger said mockingly. "Well here; allow me to remind you."

"We got her!" Elsa whirled around, startled. The two Weselton guards from her coronation stood before her, crossbows hefted. As they shot, the real Elsa flinched and held up her hands, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the room seemed to have magnified itself by six sizes—once for each of the mirrors—and the walls had become a brilliant golden-yellow. Her reflection was now between her and the guards, having conjured up the ice protrusion to block the arrow.

"Go around! Close in!"

"Stay _away!"_ her reflection snapped angrily, and thus the fight began. The detail was startling, replaying almost exactly as it had that day, except now, her reflection was far more vicious. Every action was timed, an effort to kill or at least maim one of the guards.

"Stop! Don't hurt them!" Elsa protested, hurrying to the nearest wall.

"Fire! Fire!"

"Get her!" Jabbing icicles, all around her; the trio shifted from mirror to mirror like ghosts, deaf to the queen's desperate pleading. Then, quite suddenly, her reflection stood before her, with her back to the queen. More mirrors had appeared in the mirrors, so that the guards and the ice queen could be seen from every angle. Elsa felt her heart began to race. "No- please-"

The men hefted their crossbows. The mirror-Elsa's face contorted to a snarl, and she pinned the thousand guards to their respective walls, icicles growing towards their throats. She knocked the crossbow from the hands of the others with a cruel laugh and conjured her enormous structures of ice, pushing the guards out the countless refracted balcony doors in dizzying synchronization. _"Please!"_ Elsa cried.

Her reflection glanced back at her, just for a moment. It grinned and threw its hands wide.

"NO!"

There was the sound of grinding ice, and then all was silent, save for a horrible dripping to her left. Elsa pressed a horrified hand to her mouth as she found herself staring again at a singular balcony, its doors and railing shattered. Her reflection looked back at her, a cold, triumphant smile curling her lips.

"Th-That's not– that's not what happened!" she cried furiously. "I didn't–"

"No." The smile widened. "But you could have."

"Queen Elsa!"

Elsa—the real Elsa—whirled around. Hans was standing in the doorway. He looked at her, and then at the carnage. "Elsa, what have you done?" he said lowly.

"Hans- you don't understand-"

"You killed them," he accused her. "You slaughtered them, Elsa!"

"I-"

"And after all this," he spat, "after _all this,_ you still couldn't forgive me! Three simple words, Elsa, that was all it took! But no, it was too much for you." He shook his head in disgust. "We're both monsters, Elsa. But at least I have the decency to admit it." He turned and disappeared into the darkness of the hall.

"Wait!" she cried, rushing to the glass. "Hans, I forgive you! I forgive you!"

"It's too late, Elsa!" her alter said harshly from behind her. "He's gone."

She fell silent at that, stunned, a hand pressed to her mouth. The image in the mirror laughed, walking around to her side. "Of course you'd react like that. Good Elsa, virtuous Elsa, the gracious Queen, the gentle sister, pious and fair, honest and wise—oh, the list just goes _on_, doesn't it? You play the part of the benevolent monarch well, my queen, but you know inside what you really are: a hypocrite."

"No…"

"Did your parents really believe locking you up could contain the evil inside you? Your powers were nothing compared to your frozen heart. Tell me, Elsa, does your sister know? Did you ever tell Anna what happened here that day?"

"Elsa?"

Again, the queen turned. Anna looked back at her, dressed in her traveling clothes. She sighed in relief. "Oh, Elsa, thank goodness! I was so worried you'd-"

She stopped, suddenly. The expression of joy faded from her face. "Anna," Elsa said desperately.

"W-what is this?" her sister whispered, looking around. "What did you...?"

"Anna, don't–"

"You lied to me!" Anna cried. "You said you were just defending yourself!"

"I was! I just–"

"And now him, Elsa? Did you really think I wouldn't find out about you two? How could you!"

"I'm sorry!" Elsa cried. "I never meant for it to go this far!"

"Well it has, Elsa! It's all gone way too far!" Anna's shouts were daggers; the angry tears filling her eyes, acid. "You know what? I've had it! I've had it with you shutting me out, hiding things from me, _lying_ to me! You want to be alone so much?! Fine! Have it your way!" She whirled around and ran down the hallway.

"Anna, please!" the queen begged, rushing to the glassy wall, but Anna had already disappeared from sight.

Elsa just stood there, her hands shaking. The mirror-Elsa sidled up beside her, just opposite the glass. "This is your truth, Elsa," her twin said softly, silkily. "You admitted it yourself; everything about you has always kept you apart from others—your powers, your coldness, your double standards. You were made to shut people out."

"That's not true," she whispered.

"Isn't it? Face it, Elsa: you don't know how to love. And because of that, you can never be loved in return. You were born to be alone."

And, for the first time since their conversation had begun, the reflection turned and followed the prince and princess down the hall, leaving the queen utterly deserted in the cold, empty room.

* * *

Hans looked over as the queen stepped inside the cupola. "Where's Elsa?" he demanded, voice ragged. "What did you do to her?"

The Snow Queen raised an eyebrow. "Nothing you wouldn't have done, to get what you want."

Hans stared, mouth opening as he realized just how broad this definition was. His hands started to shake, and he turned away, running his fingers through his hair and forcing himself to take one sharp breath, and then another. "Is…is she alive?" he asked, not looking back.

He heard a low chuckle and turned. The Snow Queen tossed a piece of cloth the same deep blue color as Elsa's dress down in front of him. Hans stooped to pick it up, and then retracted his hand abruptly as he realized it was Elsa's bonnet. Along the white fur edges of the bottom was a dark ruby stain, still wet. He let out a low, choked gasp. _"No…"_

The Snow Queen didn't seem to be watching him anymore; instead, she went to the mirror and placed two shards, one blue and one scarlet, into place. She could hear the prince's shivering, hitching breaths, but didn't bother to spare him a glance, turning instead to leave, her heels clinking on the icy floor. She was almost at the door when a sudden wall of flame blocked her path, searing up to the roof. She stopped abruptly and looked back.

The prince was watching her with numb, reddened eyes. A sphere of angry flame was building in his trembling hand.

"What's this?" she whispered. "Do you wish to fight me, little prince?" She stepped back towards him, eyeing him with an expression he couldn't determine. Hans swept his hand up abruptly. A jet of flame flashed along the ice and up where the Snow Queen stood; she barely stepped out of its way. There was a twitch in her mouth as she studied him.

"Do you _hate_ me?"

Hans broke.

He made no plans, executed no strategies; pure rage consumed him as the fire lashed and darted around the walls, spilling into the air in erratic jets of flame as a scream of fury escaped him. Sparks whirled around him in a torrent; the range of the battle was three-dimensional, every angle and wall a possible launch-point for attack. The Snow Queen's response came in flashes: a hand here, a wall of ice there, white skirts and furs swirling in a pirouette as she laughed at him.

"She's gone, little prince! Do you want your vengeance? Do you want to _kill _me? Do you–"

Her laughter twisted suddenly into a scream as Hans threw out a hand and the flames engulfed her arm. The Snow Queen stared down at the melted limb and then to the prince.

He saw the fear in her eyes.

He _craved_ it.

All of a sudden the room was a cauldron of flame. It guttered up the walls, spilled across the floor. The witch staggered and dropped to a knee as a foot, an ankle, a leg melted. The brilliance assaulted her eyes; she summoned a whirlwind of snow to shield herself, but through the waves of fire she could see the prince's wild face, tears coursing down his cheeks, teeth bared, expression twisted into a mask of pure hatred.

The roar of hellfire in his ears was like a steam engine; the fury was all-consuming, all-demanding, sharpening the world to a single desire. Hans saw the witch's white, narrow face like a pagan goddess in the battling storm of flame and snow and fused his will with the blaze, ordering it to end her, to avenge his grief—

As if from a long distance away, he heard laughter. Mocking, delighted laughter. He saw her lips move, saw her eyes gleam with mirth, and realized the source.

The flames died. The prince stared, numb, uncomprehending, as the Snow Queen, half-melted, laughed grotesquely from her icy floor. His eyes traveled downwards, and he sucked in a breath.

The bonnet lay at his feet, half-charred away. He sank to his knees and scooped the precious piece of cloth into his arms, cradling it like fragile glass.

"Just remember, princeling," the Snow Queen said with satisfaction, and he looked up as the snow accumulated, repairing her destroyed hand and leg. She stood, sweeping towards the stairwell. "She came here to find _you."_

_"Weak," _the mirror hissed behind him, delighted.

The Snow Queen chuckled. "I wonder if you were worth it."

And with that, she was gone. Hans knelt alone in the room, clutching the burnt and bloodied bonnet so tightly his hands shook. The fiery glass shard cut deep into his palm. Behind him, his reflection simply smiled and put his hand to the hilt of his sword.

* * *

Two floors below, the queen herself stood with her back to the icy wall, feeling numb with cold and dead despair. _"Sadness swirls within me like the snow,"_ she murmured.

"_The mistakes I've made surround me, and now I know…_

_It's to late to change the past, too late to make it right,_

_Too late to let it go…"_

"_**Life's too short."**_

"**To be such an obsessive fool,"** Hans said bitterly, standing weakly before the mirror as he watched his own reflection draw the sword.

"**So desperate that I couldn't see." **He curled his hand into a fist, little flames licking the knuckles.

**Life's too short to be so selfish and so cruel,**

**To only ever think of me."**

"_I wish I'd seen things clearly,"_ Elsa whispered, sliding down the wall.

"**It seems I'm just not the sort,"** he said dully, green eyes agonized.

"_**Now all I know is**_

_**Life's too short."**_

He bowed his head, clutching the bonnet to his chest as his shoulders began to quake.

Elsa pulled her legs in close and buried her face in her knees, as beside her, ice froze over the black leather hymnal and the scarlet rose.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. :)**

**_*"__Mii muitit. _Mun_ muittán."=__"We remember._ I_ remember." _(Sorry if the translation is off; there's no English to Northern Sámi translator, so I did my best with a Finnish one.)**


	40. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: TRIGGER WARNINGS for suicidal thoughts and contemplation. (First and last sections.)**

* * *

It was clear by the way his shoulders stiffened that the prince had sensed her cold presence behind him, even before she rested her hand on his shoulder. "Do you see it now, Hans?" the Snow Queen crooned, her voice almost gentle. "Do you understand just how monstrous you really are?"

She saw in the reflection as his green eyes opened, wet and bloodshot, and to anyone who had cared, they would have seemed frighteningly dead. "Yes," he said lowly, tonelessly.

"Then you know you have no choice. Give the shard to me," she said, holding her hand out beside him.

Hans didn't move an inch, didn't even look over at her. The only part of him that shifted was his fist curling tighter around the shard.

Snarling, she shoved him forward. His knees slammed into the icy ground, and only by catching the gilt edging around the mirror with his left hand did he stop himself from falling straight into the glass. His reflection, his future, sneered back at him, lord and master of the Mirror. "Is this what you want?!" the witch hissed. "To become even more monstrous than you are?"

"What's the difference?" His voice was hollow. "If I gave it to you, I'd be just as wretched. I'd be betraying her memory. How could I live with myself?"

The Snow Queen paused, seemed to consider. "Yes...how could you live with yourself?"

His face had gone stiff despite the tears.

"There is another way." Her voice had turned silky again. "A way where you wouldn't have to live with what you've done." Hans didn't answer. "I was a fool this whole time. To think you wanted a crown or a throne...when all you wanted was to be free of the monster you've become." Her grip on his shoulder loosened. "Your mother isn't here, princeling. Nor is the queen."

He shook his head feebly.

"Are you trying to make them proud? The dead cannot judge you." Her hand released him. "You're all alone."

* * *

The stables were cold but smelled of good hay as Kristoff and Anna opened the door. Lanterns burned on the walls, casting the room in a warm golden glow, and both were equally reluctant to leave the relative warmth and security of the castle behind.

Kristoff pulled on his hat and scarf as approached Sven's stable. "Hey, buddy," the harvester said, opening the gate. Sven snuffled against his coat expectantly, and Kristoff shook his head. "Sorry, no carrots today. We're going for a run."

Sven raised an eyebrow.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!"

The reindeer gave him a dubious look and nodded towards the stable doors, outside of which howled a fierce winter wind. Kristoff sighed. "Okay, so we're _actually_ heading up the North Mountain in the middle of a blizzard to rescue Elsa and Prince Can't-Keep-His-Head-Out-Of-His–"

"Kristoff!" Anna chided.

"–Prince Hans, both of whom might be in mortal danger," Kristoff finished. "So we need your help."

Sven seemed to be frowning with worry, if reindeer could frown, and quickly knocked his own harness off the hook. "I'll take that as a yes," said the harvester. He quickly led Sven over to the sleigh and was just harnessing him to it when he heard a sharp banging against one of the doors. It was one of the palace's fjord horses, a yellow-colored mount with a black-and-white mane. He kicked again at his door again, whinnying with urgency. "What's your deal?" Kristoff demanded.

"No, look!" Anna interjected, hurrying over. "It's Sitron!"

"Who?"

"He's Hans's horse. Right?" she questioned, looking to the stallion. He jerked his head at his master's name and whinnied, straining to get out. "We should take him with us; he could help pull the sled!"

"A horse and a reindeer pull a sled together?" Kristoff questioned doubtfully.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well- just- I don't think it'd work. Those kind of animals usually don't team up. You know, work-animal, royal pet? Not exactly a common combination," he reminded her.

"Well, I think that should be their decision," Anna said resolutely. She looked to Sitron and Sven expectantly, who seemed to glance at each other and communicate in that strange way only animals do, and then Sitron tossed his head and kicked the door again.

"And _I,"_ said the princess with a grin, unlocking the horse's stall, "will take _that_ as a yes."

* * *

The council observed the villagers once again residing in the great hall from their position in the doorway. The job to be done was an unpleasant one, but unpleasant or no, the people had a right to know what decisions had been made regarding their future.

"Someone must tell them," said Lady Evjen with a sigh.

"Agreed," Lord Frandsen intoned. "But who?"

There was a moment's pause, and then Kai said quietly, "Willum."

The bishop started and looked over. "Me?"

"With the Queen and Princess gone, you're the closest they have to a leader. It ought to be you."

Willum hesitated, and then nodded. "Of course." He swallowed, reminding himself that he had plenty of experience in telling people unpleasant truths, and then nodded firmly and walked into the room.

The villagers turned to look as he approached the dais on which the queen's throne sat. "Um- ahem," he began, quietly clearing his throat. The great hall fell silent. "I- I feel it is our duty—that is, the duty of your council—to explain to you all what has occurred."

The people watched expectantly as he continued, "Many of you have heard the myths of the Snow Queen, she who sought to repair the Devil's Mirror and cast the world into an icy curse. These legends, these cautionary fairy-tales, have been familiar to many of us practically from the cradle. We know, of course, that cradle stories are for children, not for adults—and it is precisely for that reason, I believe, that it is time for the truth to be known." He took a deep breath. "These myths, these fairy-tales, are not mere legends. As fantastic as they may seem, they are, in fact...true."

The hall erupted into a flurry of whispers. "Please, your attentions!" Willum cried, raising a hand. The whispers hushed again. "This—this sorceress has spent the last millennium collecting the missing shards of the Mirror—one of which, until very recently, has plagued our own queen. However, as malicious as these shards may be on their own, together, they pose a far graver danger. We believe that the Snow Queen is now very near to collecting the last piece of the Mirror from Prince Hans himself, who it must be stressed–" More whispers, and questions as well. He held up a hand and said loudly, "–Who it must be stressed is entirely innocent in this matter! A few hours ago, the queen went up the mountain, where we have reason to believe the sorceress is holding the prince captive. She has not returned. The princess and Sir Kristoff left only minutes ago to attempt to aid her. If they do not return by morning…" He hesitated, and then said, "If they do not return, it is their advice that we begin exodus to the southern provinces."

"But if the Snow Queen collects the last shard," said a man, stepping forward, "Then nowhere will be safe…will it?"

Willum shook his head. "Nowhere will be permanently safe. But we can survive there for a time."

"And then what?" called another. "What happens when there's nowhere left to run to?"

"I…" The bishop found that he was at a loss. In the end, he said honestly, "I don't know."

The villagers became subdued at that. Willum bit his lip. "When morning comes, we will divide you all into groups with the Sámi herdsmen at the lead and begin the journey south. Until then… I can only recommend prayer, and hope." Even to him, the words sounded flat. He waited a moment longer, and then stepped of the dais as the townspeople began to murmur amongst themselves. Willum wanted to help them, to speak some words of comfort, but he had no comfort of his own to give.

_Look at them,_ a voice hissed in his mind. _So pitifully weak, with an old, feeble man for their leader. Do you honestly still believe you can save them?_

Willum sighed, grimacing in weariness and resignation. He knew this voice. Though it sounded like his own, the bishop had fought the vicious, menacing whispers for far too long to recognize them as anything but the enemy. He attempted prayer. _Lord, grant me the faith to cling tightly to Thee in these dark times–_

_Do you think your petty prayers will dissuade me, priest? _The voice broke in, scoffing. _Even now, my servant is preparing to destroy you and your pathetic band of half-witted sheep._

_You are the Prince of Lies; I will not believe a word you speak,_ the bishop retorted sharply in his mind.

_What will you do, Willum? You're powerless against her, against me. You are an old man; you are weak. These people are weak. There is nothing you can do._

A wave of black despair swept over him; still, the bishop fought against it. _I am a priest of God._

_I have won. And you have failed._

His faith faltered; his courage fled. With a heavy heart, the bishop sat down on a nearby chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted, filled with nothing but bitter regret. The voice was right. The enemy had won at last; he couldn't save these people, and no miracle seemed forthcoming. What was there left to hope for, to hope _in?_ Nothing. Nothing.

"…Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence...?"

Startled, the bishop looked up. Nearby, a husband sat with his wife on their little pallet, their children all seated around them, listening as their father read from the psalms. "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there," the man continued quietly. "If I take the wings..."

* * *

_"...of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me."_

_The poor little house was silent save for the soft voice of the eldest child, a young man of perhaps seventeen with sharp gray eyes, as he read the younger two to sleep. "__If I say, 'surely the darkness shall cover me,' even the night shall be light about me. __Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee..."__ He paused, and then finished softly, "B__ut the night shineth as the day; t__he darkness and the light are both alike to thee."_

_The two young children said not a word, their eyes closed and breath even. "I think they're asleep," Willum said quietly._

_"As we should soon be ourselves." The young man glanced over towards his father, a larger man with gray hinting at his temples. "They're good children," the old bricklayer murmured._

_"They are," Willum agreed. He hesitated, and then said, "Father…are you sure this is a good idea? You need the money; what will you do without my wages?"_

_"We'll be fine; I've set some money aside, and the church has agreed to help pay for your schooling."_

_"But what about Karen and Anders? They're still too young to work. What if something happens to you? What if–"_

_"Willum." He stopped as he felt his father's hand settle on his shoulder, large and rough from years of brickmaking. "We have the means. It will be tight, but we'll manage. If it's God's will, then He will guide you through." An identical pair of gray eyes looked into his as his father said firmly, "Trust in providence, Willum; when all else fails, providence always remains."_

* * *

Providence…he remembered that day. The day he'd made up his mind to leave for the seminary, despite all the risks, all the uncertainties. And had providence ever betrayed him? Here he was, forty years later, the bishop of the kingdom. No, providence had not failed him yet…and it would not fail him now.

He stood and set his purpose firm, walking adamantly to Kai and Gerda. The pair looked over in mild surprise as he stopped before them. "Willum? You have an odd look in your eyes; what are you planning?" Gerda questioned.

"I said we should pray, and pray we shall," he said resolutely. "Find me a table, about waist-high—never mind how scuffed or rickety it may be—and set it over by the thrones. I'm going to the chapel; I'll be back shortly."

"But why? And why do we need a table?" the housekeeper inquired.

He caught her confused expression, and smiled despite the grimness of the situation. "Why, good Gerda, have you forgotten the time? It's nearly midnight! High time for a Christmas Eve vigil, don't you think?"

Gerda and Kai glanced at each other, surprised, and then he saw the faintest traces of hope begin to fill their faces. "Of course, silly me," the matron replied stoutly.

"Get everyone ready; I'll be back in a few minutes." His gray eyes were afire. "The Snow Queen thinks she's terribly powerful, does she? Hmph! Well, the darkness was just as arrogant—until it met a candle!" And with that, the bishop turned on his heels and headed for the staircase.

* * *

The cupola was silent. It had been for what felt like an eternity; with even the Snow Queen gone, the room somehow felt colder than ever. The heat from his magic had grown weaker, until only small flames and sparks seeped feebly along his fingers. Even the Mirror had ceased showing him new terrors; now only his reflection remained, standing where Hans sat with his back to the glass. Waiting.

"I know what you're trying to do."

His reflection considered this. "Yes. You're certainly clever enough."

"You want me to kill myself. So that the Snow Queen can have this shard." He looked down at the piece of glass. It had died down to a dark cherry-red, pulsing faintly in the center, like a dying star.

"Fine. You're right. That's what I want."

The prince gave a choked laugh. "So. Even the devil can tell the truth." The other him didn't answer. "I'm wise to you now..."

"Does it matter? You want to end yourself as much as I want you to."

"And what then?" Hans murmured. "Are there consequences? Was I ever really able to escape them?"

No reply. He looked back.

The mirror was empty; his reflection had vanished. And suddenly, he was afraid. He looked around the frozen room, eerily silent, horribly empty. Reason and common sense fled; if there were other souls, somewhere outside those walls, they may as well not have existed.

His sword lay in its sheath. He didn't have the energy to fling it away; he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wasn't even sure that it mattered: at the other end of that blade was a judgment, a room exactly like this one, awaiting his sins. The world had narrowed to a pinpoint, this last locked, icy cell where he was alone. And he had done it to himself.

_This is hell._

Maybe he'd always been here. Maybe his whole life had been one headfirst plunge into the open abyss of his own selfishness, a series of isolated cells. Maybe his repentance had always been as shallow as he'd feared, and this last month had just been one bright spot on the journey down into the pit.

But one difference remained. Grief anchored him to reality; he clung to the bloodstained bonnet, proof that he had not always been alone, however briefly. Proof that he had even loved someone.

_And she told me not to give in._

The threads of sanity still unraveling, he gripped the bonnet, and waited for whatever would happen next.


	41. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

"Alright, how far are we now?" Anna said as the sled flew around a switchback, trying to squint at the map in the light from the swinging lantern.

"On a guess? Half an hour from the top. We should reach it just before midnight."

"Are you sure? Maybe there's a shortcut-"

"Anna, I know this mountain like the back of my hand; there's no shortcut," Kristoff replied, as they ricocheted around another corner.

"Every minute we waste is another minute my sister could be dead!"

"Yeah, well, I'm worried too, but I'm getting us there as fast as I can!" he snapped, a little offended.

"You can hardly see anything in this blizzard; how do you know there's not another way?" she demanded.

"I know, okay?!"

_"How_ do you know?!"

"I just know!" He yanked the reigns tight around the next turn- so tight that horse and reindeer were thrown off their guard, and the sled tipped and nearly skittered off the stone path down the cliff. The harvester let out a yelp and managed to right it, but not before he heard the scream that made his blood run cold. He pulled the sled to a halt. "ANNA!"

The princess (who had been thrown from her seat when the sled tipped) had managed to grab on to the edge of the sled and was hanging on for dear life, letting out a little screams as her gloved hands began to slip. "Hold on, I got you," Kristoff said, pulling her up into the sled. Anna clung to his arm, trembling, and Kristoff held her as tight as he dared. "Are you alright?" he asked urgently.

"I-I think so," she stammered, peeking over the edge. She shuddered as she looked at the drop, filled with the swirling, snowy winds that hid the bottom. "Maybe not so fast, huh?"

"Yeah, no kidding." He snapped the reins, still keeping one arm protectively around her. "Easy does it, boys." Sven and Sitron started off again, this time at more of a trot than a run. Anna's hands were still shaking as she gripped at his sleeve, and he felt absolutely awful for having put her in harm's way. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been running them so fast."

"No, it's my fault; I wasn't letting you pay attention. You're right, you know this mountain better than anyone; I should trust you."

His brown eyes were full of concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good." She took a deep breath. "Let's just…get up this mountain and find my sister, okay?"

Kristoff gave a humorless chuckle. "Talk about déjà vu."

* * *

Another twenty minutes passed before they broke through the cloud layer at the top of the mountain, and found themselves beneath a sky of coldly glittering stars. As Kristoff pulled the sled to a halt and they paused, drinking it in, something caught Anna's attention. "Look!" she said, pointing to a rock formation some ways away. Kristoff could faintly see orange firelight flickering from within the crevice, its source hidden by the snow-shrouded stones. "That might be Elsa!" the princess beside him exclaimed.

The pair hurried forward and around the rocks' edges to the formation's opening. Within they found not the queen, but something rather more interesting. "Hello, Kristoff, Anna!" a cheerful voice called.

"Olaf!" Anna cried, rushing forward and kneeling down to hug the animated snowman. "What are you doing out here? Where's Elsa—oh, _wow!"_ she exclaimed, breaking her train of thought as she caught sight of Ovn and the dismembered Marshmallow.

"Hello," Ovn said shyly. "You must be Princess Anna and Sir Kristoff." She gave a little curtsy.

"This is Ovn!" Olaf said with obvious pride, as though he were the discoverer of some rare masterpiece. "Isn't she _amazing?"_

"Hans made you, right?" Kristoff said, dropping to a knee beside the little fire-being, who nodded.

"I think he was trying to scare away the angry men with the arrows, but I'm afraid I'm not very frightening," she said, blushing.

"But she's so _pretty!"_ Olaf practically gushed. "I mean, gee, compared to her, this perfectly formed physique of mine looks like a misshapen lump!"

Anna tried to stifle a giggle. "She's lovely, Olaf. I mean, you're lovely," she repeated to Ovn. Then, she grew more serious. "Have you seen my sister?"

"She went up to the palace a few hours ago. We haven't seen her since," said Ovn, golden eyes frowning with worry. "I hope she's okay. I wonder if she found Uncle."

"If she's not alright, then we'll help her," Anna said resolutely, standing up. "Don't worry, guys; we'll save my sister if it's the last thing we do!"

"But preferably, it won't be," Kristoff added, getting to his feet as well. "You guys stay safe. And watch over Sven and Sitron for us, okay?"

"You got it!" Olaf promised. As the pair walked away, they heard him say, "So this is Sven, and this is Sitron! Ooh, do you want to hear about the day Sven tried to steal my nose?"

Anna giggled again, and Kristoff couldn't help but grin. It was pretty clear that the snowman was smitten with the little fire-being.

They walked a little ways more before finding themselves before the castle. Anna instantly knew something was wrong just by its appearance; the whole structure seemed to have been punctured by large icicles, and two great ice-sculptures stood at either side of the staircase. She whistled low and hurried towards the stairs.

This was a mistake—in fact, it was a major mistake. Almost instantly, the two ice statues sprang to life and raised their battleaxes menacingly. Anna skidded to a stop in the snow. "Whoa."

"Anna-" Kristoff said, starting forward, but he was too late: without warning, one of the guards reached down and grabbed Anna about the waist with his jagged ice-talon fingers. Anna let out an angry cry. "Hey! Put me down!"

The statue grinned. And then it did as told. Kristoff had a split second's image of his former fiancée flying through the air like a redheaded rag doll, before Anna sailed over his head and landed hard on the ground behind him. "Anna!" he yelled, running to her side. Her pink bonnet had been knocked clean off, but Kristoff was grateful to see that she was still moving. "Anna, are you alright?" he demanded.

"You mean other than the fact that I'm seeing three of you?" she asked dazedly, sitting up and raising a hand to her head. "Ooh, that hurt…"

A sudden noise made him look over. The ice-giants had started towards them again, hefting their axes for a fight. Kristoff looked at them. He looked at Anna, who was gingerly touching her head with a grimace of pain.

And then, he got mad.

"Alright, you oversized popsicles," he growled, getting to his feet and pulling his pickaxe out of his belt. "I've had just about enough of you. You think you're tough? You think I'm going down without a fight? Well think again, because I am Kristoff Bjorgman, knight of Arendelle and official Ice Master and Deliverer, and _you attacked the wrong princess!"_

"Kristoff, no!" Anna cried, as the harvester charged the guards with nothing but his ice pick. The ice giants, recognizing this as an act of aggression, swung their battleaxes like massive deadly pendulums, but Kristoff dodged the blows, ducking and weaving in between until he'd reached one of the guard's legs. Before it could move, he'd brought down the pick on the giant's knee with all the strength and skill of a man who broke ice for a living.

The giant roared with pain as the ice fractured. He swiped at the harvester with his claws, but Kristoff ducked out of the way and hit him again. He continued to strike with the ice pick until the leg fractured completely, and the giant stumbled sideways and crashed into his partner. They careened sideways and tumbled into the chasm below, vanishing under the cloud-layer. Their howls echoed for a moment in the winter air, and then faded away.

Kristoff turned back to the princess, still breathing heavily. Anna was staring at him in shock. "You okay?" he asked concernedly, hurrying over to her.

"Y-yeah, I think so," she stammered, getting to her feet.

"You've probably got a concussion, maybe you should just wait here–"

"No, I'm alright. Um… that- that was really brave," she said, suddenly feeling very shy. "So…thanks."

"Uh, yeah," Kristoff said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "No problem."

They stood there for a moment, both blushing, though neither really knew why. After a moment, the princess suddenly remembered why they were at the castle in the first place. "Oh! Right, we should probably go in, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah, that might be a good idea," Kristoff agreed. They hurried off towards the stairs again, glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes and wondering what exactly had just happened.

* * *

The villagers all stood and turned to look as the bishop entered the great hall through the side doors, clad in his white miter and cope, with his gold crosier in hand. Behind him followed two acolytes in their albs, one swinging the thurible as the scent of frankincense filled the air. Without music, without instruments, the congregation began to chant the hymn in unison, voices filling the air with a hope that could not be quenched by the darkness beyond the hallowed walls.

"_Deilig er jorden,_

_prektig er Guds himmel,_

_skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsgang!"_

The bishop approached the makeshift altar at the front of the hall and kissed it reverently. This was his hope. This was his providence.

_"Gjennom de fagre_

_riker på jorden_

_går vi til paradis med sang!"_

Oh, my children, never forget the power of a simple prayer! Be it one that falls from the lips of small children or those of an old, gray man, a prisoner and criminal or a saint of purest virtue, He who sees and hears all things will surely hear the prayers of those who love Him. And so it was that cold, dark night, as the frightened yet hopeful faithful kept the Christmas Vigil, and their hymn reached the God of both peasants and kings. Their songs rose to Heaven, and on the mountain far beyond, the beauty of this prayer filled even the silence of the room in which sat a weeping queen. Though she heard it not, it filled the frozen air around her, brushing against the pages of the hymnal that lay beside her on the ground. And the rose within the pages, covered by an icy casing of malice and fear, felt something within its sacred heart respond to the sacred hymn of the masses far below, and came to life once more, flushing red as if in the bloom of springtime. The ice around it warmed, and then split with a sharp _crack!_

* * *

The castle was eerily silent as Kristoff and Anna walked through the front doors. They paused a moment to look around the destroyed entryway. "Whoa," Anna murmured, taking a step forward, and then let out another, "Whoa!" as she slipped on several scattered beads of ice.

"I got you." Ever-vigilant Kristoff quickly caught her under the arms, and Anna let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks." She glanced at a nearby icicle jutting from the ground and shuddered. "Let's keep going."

"Good idea. Up and in?"

"Up and in," she agreed. Both turned towards the staircase, but pulled to an abrupt halt as a loud _plink!_ sounded in the icy hall. The bead on which she'd slipped struck the far wall and rolled away harmlessly.

The sound of its roll was drowned by a loud grinding noise, as from the icy floor there grew great mirror-like walls, cutting off the rest of the room. Anna clutched at her cloak nervously. "Kristoff, what's going on?"

"On a guess? I'd say nothing good."

The walls rose and rose to the distant ceiling, and then their growth slowly ground to a halt. For a long moment, there was dead silence. "I think it stopped," Anna whispered. She found that she was looking at a reflection of herself, seemingly superimposed on the balcony beyond the wall. At first, it seemed quite ordinary—until she noticed a very odd peculiarity about the mirror. "That's funny," she said slowly.

"Trust me, Anna, nothing is funny about this situation," Kristoff responded tersely.

"No, not _funny-_funny. Look." He glanced over, and she added, "See? My reflection's there…but yours isn't."

"So they're mirrors?" Kristoff reasoned. "But where am I?" He turned around, confused, and then his eye caught another figure, this one just before the hallway, dressed in gray furs and with a pickaxe at his side. "Oh. There I am. Creepy." He put one hand on his axe, wary. "You look that way, I'll watch this way. That way, nothing can sneak up on us."

"Gotcha."

They quickly went back to back. Anna watched her own reflection nervously. When nothing any stranger happened, she inched forward, biting her lip. Kristoff did the same, knife at the ready.

Anna reached out a hand to the ice. Her reflection did the same. Hesitantly, she touched the glass, her fingers seeming to brush against those of her double. She looked into her own green-blue eyes, frowning in confusion.

Then, her reflection smiled. "Hello, Anna."

She jumped away. "Wh-what-"

"Now is that the kind of greeting I get? Not even a 'Hi' back? Ru-ude." Her other self rolled her eyes and blew a stray strand of hair out of her face in a manner that was very similar to the princess's own mannerisms, but somehow also very foreign.

Anna's mistrust and fear began to grow. This was her, but _not_ her. Something was very, very wrong. Even as she watched, the scenery behind her other self became Anna's own bedroom in the Arendelle palace. "To be totally honest, this isn't a great time," the reflection said, clearly irritated. "My husband's late, my kids are driving me insane, and seriously, I've had it up to here with the whole idea of family, they're such a nuisance!"

She began to pace, waving her hands in an angry rant as the real Anna's heart began to pound. "I never have time for myself these days; you know I haven't gotten out of the castle in _months?_ All I do is change diapers, nurse babies and listen to their _whining!_ And Kristoff's no help when he gets home! I don't know why I ever got married; what good has it ever done me, anyways?"

Behind her, Kristoff (who was entirely oblivious to the princesses' dialogue), warily reached out and knocked on the glass. His reflection did the same, and then frowned, annoyed. "What're you looking at?" he asked harshly.

The real Kristoff's mouth dropped open. His alter glared at him. "Come to make fun of me, huh? Figures. Well I haven't got time for this; I've got a meeting in twenty minutes and I still haven't got any idea what it's about!" He threw up his hands, pacing angrily in front of the desk that had suddenly materialized in a perfect replica of the castle library. "You're really the icing on the cake today, you know that? The council already thinks I'm a joke, my own kids are ashamed of me and I'm pretty sure my wife's looking to leave me, so the last thing I need is your input on how I should be doing my job!"

"I- I just-" Kristoff stammered.

"Oh, I'm sorry; were those words too big for you?" his double spat. "Figures; you look just about as _stupid_ as I am. But that doesn't stop you from coming to gawk, does it?" He sneered angrily. "You think I don't know what people say about me? Kristoff Bjorgman, the Half-Wit Prince! The half-blooded oaf, isn't that right? The princess's biggest mistake!" The real Kristoff stepped back, rebuffed by the hateful words. "A nobody! Less than nobody! _Worthless!"_

Behind him, Anna pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, a sob escaping through her fingers as her eyes filled with tears. Her reflection had turned and retreated to the background, taking the form of a shadow. "Where have you been?!" she heard her own voice screech shrilly from the mirror, as her figure shouted at a Kristoff-shaped silhouette, his head hung low. "These brats have been driving me crazy all day, but _you're_ never around to help! Some husband you are, you lazy, stupid oaf!"

She backed away, shaking her head as the tears ran down her cheeks. "I wish I'd never met you, Kristoff!" screamed her reflection. "I wish these children weren't even mine! I wish you were all gone for good! _None of you are worth my time!"_

Both she and Kristoff pulled away from the mirrors, trying to break away from their fears but unable to do anything but watch, watch as they destroyed their own lives, their family, their kingdom–

And then suddenly, their hands bumped against each other's, and both turned, startled. Without thinking, without planning, each pulled the other into their arms.

Anna watched as in Kristoff's mirror, the shadow of her fiancé raved a list of self-depreciating insults, while Kristoff saw the silhouette of his beloved shriek and screech in ways the true Anna never had. "Is that what you're afraid of?" Kristoff said, stunned. "That you'll be a bad mother? A bad wife?"

"And you a bad prince? Kristoff, did you really think we'd let you go into this on your own?" Anna asked.

They drew back, just enough to look in each other's eyes. "Anna, I don't– I don't belong in your court," Kristoff said hoarsely. "I'm sorry, I tried, I really did, but I just–"

"We weren't expecting you to be perfect at it right away," she insisted. "Learning how to be royalty takes time; you'll have advisors, tutors, people to help you." But he was shaking his head. "Kristoff..."

"Anna, I can't. I can't be a king, I can't even be a good prince. I'm just _me."_

"Just the...half-blooded oaf."

He nodded. Silence settled over them, the shrieks fading into the background.

"Did I...ever make you feel that way?" she whispered.

"You didn't...want me to wear my coat, out in public." He couldn't meet her eyes, because there were tears in his; he had never felt so humiliated. He had never wanted her to see this side of him, the insecure, stupid, _pathetic_ part that listened to it all. The part that, despite himself...believed it.

But then her arms were around his neck, and his eyes went wide. "Anna...?"

"I'm sorry," she said into his chest. Her muffled voice sounded choked. "I'm so, _so_ sorry. I never realized—of course you took it that way." She drew back. "Kristoff, I _love_ who you are," she insisted, tears rolling down her cheeks. _"All_ of you, not just the parts that make my life easier." He looked doubtful, and she poked his chest. "Do you know why I fell in love with you? Because you're _smart_ and _kind_ and _dedicated_ to everything you do. _Exactly_ the kind of man who'd make a great prince. And I should _never_ have made you feel rejected like that."

"It wasn't just your fault," he insisted. "I-I know, that I shouldn't take what people say so seriously, but..." She brushed his tears away with her thumb. He looked past her to her reflection in the mirror. "Anna...what made you think you'd be a bad mother?" he said, bewildered.

It was her turn to look at her feet. "I..."

"Anna?"

"You...said it best." She shrugged, looking as if she were trying to shrink as she wiped her eyes with her gloves. "I, ehm, wouldn't know responsibility, o-or maturity, if it jumped up and bit me in the nose." She tried to laugh, but it came out broken.

He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up. "I was a jerk," Kristoff said seriously. "I let my own worries spill over onto you, and I'm sorry for that. Anna, you're not irresponsible, or immature."

"But I'm childish, and I like—stupid fairytales, and chocolate, and–"

"You're not childish, you like having fun. There's a big difference."

"But what if I can't be myself, once I'm married?" she confessed. "If I have to give up who I am—Kristoff, I don't think I can _do_ that, and what if that means I wouldn't be a good mom or I'd take it out on you or– or–"

"Anna, I would _never_ ask you to give up who you are. I want to marry _you, _not some perfectly-polite-wife-ish version of you. Whatever that would look like," he added with a shudder, and she gave a watery giggle. "You think I'd just abandon you in the castle with the kids to do whatever I want? Does that sound like me?"

"Well...no, not really..."

"And who you are _is not_ irresponsible," he insisted. "Anna, I saw how hard this was on you, pretending to still be engaged and helping everyone else keep hope when you were in so much pain yourself. Even if nobody else saw it, I did."

"You did?" she whispered, eyes sparkling with tears.

"When your people needed you, you stepped up, even when it was hard. You _always have."_ She bit her lip hard. "You're kind, and loving, and one of the most _loyal_ people I know," he said seriously. "And you don't have to be Elsa to be a good princess, or a good mother."

Anna's mouth fell open. "How did you–"

"Because I know you, feistypants." He grinned at her, even if it was a watery grin. "And you're going to be a great mom someday, and—and I think you'd make a great wife, too. If that's what you want."

She smiled tearfully and nodded. "A-and I think you'd make a great prince."

He swallowed hard, and then pulled her in close. They embraced each other tightly, eyes closed shut as each held the other. It was for this reason that they didn't see the icy mirrors slowly start to crack, a little at first, and then more and more, until finally they shattered altogether and fell to the floor.

Startled by the sudden noise, each looked up and then around in wonder. "Did we do that?" Anna questioned, surprised.

"I think so," Kristoff agreed.

They looked at each other, and each began to laugh in awe and relief. Before either really knew what was happening, Kristoff took Anna by the cheek and kissed her, with a passion. She kissed him back with equal fervor. When they pulled away, both were smiling with deep happiness and the sense that finally, things were back how they ought to be. Then, Anna's smile suddenly faded. "Elsa," she said grimly.

Kristoff nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

The Mass ended with the final verse of _Eg Veit i Himmerik ei Borg,_ and Willum allowed the acolytes to quickly collect the Mass vessels and purificators, gathering them in his arms. "I'll be back soon," he assured Kai and Gerda. "Everyone should start readying to leave by morning."

"We'll tell them," Kai assured him. The bishop gave a short, almost bird-like nod, and then hurried out of the great hall, the gleaming sacred vessels in hand. He was just about to descend the staircase to the lower floor of the castle when, from out beyond a nearby window, something very strange caught his eye.

It has been noted that the thick snow had obscured all lights from the village beyond the bridge, not that there was anyone in the houses to have lit a lamp in any case. So, naturally, all beyond the frosted panes of glass, there should have been nothing save that impenetrable darkness and the howling of the wind. And yet—and yet, inexplicably, the bishop saw very distinctly with his old gray eyes, a gold and scarlet light growing in the darkness.

Frowning in confusion, he shifted a few of the chalices to rest against the other arm and breathed on the glass, wiping the frost away with the sleeve of his cassock. The image grew sharp and clear; even beyond the great gusts of flying snow, it became horridly apparent that—_Mater Dei!—_the town was ablaze!

His eyes flew wide as he searched for the source. Beyond the window, in the crackling heat of several shops set ablaze, a single figure stood, fists clenched in rage, red beard bristling with sparks, eyes burning with a cold fury.

The bishop hardly noticed as the sacred vessels crashed to the ground, ringing with a harsh metallic noise as several ciboriums went tumbling down the staircase. He rushed back to the ballroom and cried out, "Call the guards! Sound the alarm!"

Every head in the hall snapped to look at him as he continued to shout for the guards. Kai hurried up to him. "Willum! What in Heaven's name-!"

"He's here," the bishop gasped. "He's headed for the castle!"

_"Who_ is headed for the castle?"

"The king!" Several people blinked, and he elaborated frantically, "The Southern King! But something's gone terribly wrong-"

"Look!" a voice by the windows screamed, and the crowd seemed to move in unison towards the glass doors of the terraces.

"It's the king!"

"Wh-what's happened to him?!"

"He'll burn the whole town down!"

Willum tore from the room, down the stairs and outside into the snow. The first gust of wind nearly knocked him over, but he didn't dare stop, not even for a moment. Through the chapel doors, into the sacristy, up the back staircase to the bell-tower he ran. He grabbed hold of the nearest rope and began to ring the church bells as loudly and harshly as he could.

A ways away, he saw the burning figure look up, startled. Then, even from that distance, he watched as the king's face hardened, seething with rage at the sound of the bells. Willum rang them all the harder, even as Kai and Gerda stumbled up the stairs behind him.

Just as he'd hoped, the panicked ringing had alerted the guards in the palace barracks, and the soldiers came storming out into the courtyards in droves, crossing the bridge into the town. "Thank goodness," Gerda sighed behind him. Willum didn't say a word, holding his breath.

His reserve soon proved to be not unwarranted. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around the king, and surely, they would have fought bravely, had they had the chance. Before they could so much as level their crossbows, however, Agnar threw his hands out wide. Twin walls of flame erupted on either side. Another flaming sphere forced the guards directly in front of him to dive out of the way to avoid sure and sudden death, leaving the king a direct pathway to the bridge—and the castle. To their credit, several tried to shoot through the walls of fire, but the arrows were incinerated instantly- as would have been anyone who'd attempted to rush through the billowing flames.

Willum's mouth tightened, ad he made an executive decision, hurrying down the staircase into the sacristy again. Gerda and Kai started and followed. "Willum, what are you doing?" the housekeeper demanded.

"If he isn't stopped, he'll burn the castle to the ground and kill us all," the bishop said grimly, pulling on his cloak from a hook near the door. "Get everyone to the back door by the fjords; if all else fails, at least they'll stand a chance at getting out that way."

"Willum, what in the world do you intend to do?" Kai demanded. "The man is clearly bent on reducing this place to ashes; how could you possibly hope to stop him?"

"How else?" Fifty years of experience with wayward sinners shone in his gray eyes as he took his crosier in hand. "I'm going to talk him out of it."


	42. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Elsa looked up abruptly, startled from her sobbing by the noise of shattering crashes from the floor below her, like massive sheets of glass smashing against the ground. For several seconds she screwed up her eyes and covered her ears as the sound reverberated through the floors and walls, until eventually it came to a halt. She stood and looked around in bewilderment. "What in the world…?"

Though she could find no indication of the source of the sound, her eyes caught sight of the hymnal. The ice which had covered it was almost finished thawing away. She watched in fascination as the ice rolled off from itself in tiny rivulets of water, until the last icy traces melted and vanished.

Stunned, the queen crawled over and picked up the hymnal. The pages were as warm and dry as if they'd been lying in the summer sun.

"Put that down!" a sharp voice spat, and she looked up. Her reflection was back, face contorted into a snarl at the sight of the book. "How dare you touch that with your filthy hands! Put it down, I say!"

But she did not, for something had begun to happen to its pages. Elsa watched as the rose's scarlet life spread across the paper, forming images—images she knew, images she loved. She and Anna, embracing on the boat after the fjord had thawed. She being held as a small child by Mama and Papa, creating snowflakes in her hands as she giggled. She and Kristoff, discussing his impending proposal to her sister at her desk. She and Hans, laughing over cups of hot cider…

"You have no right to look at that! Don't you know what you are?!"

"Yes," Elsa said softly, looking down at the book. "This is who I am. This is my true reflection."

"Lies! Your own delusions! Trying to pretend you aren't despicable, aren't a hypocrite and a liar–"

_"No,"_ she said sharply, looking up at her false reflection. The world had gone yellow again, the blood and carnage returned, but she no longer feared them. "That isn't true. I am human. I am broken. I have done things that I regret—yes, I regret them!" She swept her hand, indicating her crimes. "But I regret them because I know who I am, who I was really meant to be."

"You were meant to be alone," her reflection hissed.

"Sometimes I will have to be lonely, that is true." She looked down to the book in her hands. "Everyone is lonely from time to time," she said firmly. "But that does not mean I am alone." She closed her eyes, letting the images of her true nature warm her heart. "I have made mistakes, mistakes I will have to live with. They are a part of my story, but they are not a part of me." She opened her eyes again, looked her false self straight in the face and said clearly, "I am not defined by the ice of my curse, but by the warmth of my heart."

For an instant, the reflection looked at her in pure shock, before the ice fractured from the sides, the cracks breaking inward from all directions–

The mirrors shattered and fell to the ground with a loud _crash!_ Elsa flinched and covered her face to avoid the flying shards. When she looked up again, the way to the door was unblocked. She laughed in triumph and ran forwards, through the hallway, up the stairs–

She burst into the cupola and called out, "Hans! Hans, it's me! I'm alright!"

The prince started and scrambled to his feet, whirling around. "Elsa!" His face was pure relief as he rushed towards her. "You're alive?!"

"Hans, I think I've figured it out, I know how to destroy the Mirror–"

"Hold your tongue!"

Something caught her about the legs, and she tripped forward, crashing to the ground. She tried to scream, but an icy gag had appeared around her mouth at the same moment the chains had. Elsa lay there, struggling, as the Snow Queen walked forward.

"You foolish girl, you ran right past me! You might think to look about you next time you go running through the halls of _my_ palace," she hissed to the queen.

"You told me she was dead," Hans snarled, struggling against his own chains. "You told me you'd killed her!"

"Don't play the victim with me, young prince; remember that your own actions were not so different," the sorceress said testily, before turning back to the woman at her feet. "I don't know how you managed to get out of that room, Queen Elsa, but no matter: you're just in time for your grand re-entrance."

* * *

The wind whipped the snowflakes like needles as the bishop tried to shield his face from the snow. He could see the Southern King on the opposite end of the bridge between the mainland and the castle—blazing like a furnace, but not burning. An ironic connection between the man and a certain historic bush sparked in Willum's mind, but it was dashed away by the icy gusts a moment later.

"Your Majesty, please!" Willum called. "You have to stop this!"

Though his words were blown away almost instantly, Agnar seemed to hear them. Still, his approach did not cease. "Get out of my way, old man!"

"I can't do that." The distance between them was closing. "Son, listen to me! You don't know what you're dealing with!"

He laughed harshly. "Neither do you!"

_If only that were true._ "Do you have any idea what you're about to do?!"

"I mean to take reign of Arendelle—by force if necessary!"

"And do you think that will satisfy you? Will the deaths of hundreds of people, the young and the old, women and children—will that sate your need for power?!" Willum shook his head. "It will never be enough for you! A king who rules by fear is no king at all."

The words seemed to echo in the king's mind. _A king who rules by fear…is it not better to be loved, than to be feared?_ His father had never agreed with that. It was a weak philosophy, that idea of love. No one would ever respect him unless they feared him, that was what he'd always been told.

_Are you your father, Agnar?_

That voice, again—so soft, yet persistent, reminding him somehow of his mother's, absent all these long years. For a moment, just the tiniest of seconds, the Southern king seemed ready to cease his advance. The flames began to flicker and die, and his brow furrowed. His steps hesitated. The bishop watched him hopefully, desperately wishing that this confrontation could have a peaceful end. The king looked across the bridge and wondered, too, if perhaps surrender wasn't the saner option.

_Surrender? How very like you, Agnar,_ a different voice hissed in his head. _Always so weak, cowardly, spineless. Just as your father always said._

The battle raged internally, more fiercely than even the flames he had conjured. _I…I'm not my father._

_Love is weak, and for the weak! What are you waiting for? You have no excuse now, with your birthright has restored! Will you sit back and let them take you like a common criminal, prove your father right? Or will you be better than he ever was, do what he could never do! If you're not weak, pathetic, pitiful, worthless—then prove it! Prove yourself a king!_

Something passed behind those jade eyes, and the king's expression grew furious and harsh once more. "You know nothing about power, old man, and you never will. Now step aside."

Willum's eyes went hard, as well. "You will not reach that castle save for over my dead body."

Agnar lifted his hands, and the flames suddenly raged like hellfire itself, burning out of control, licking the midnight sky. In the scarlet blazing, his smirking grin seemed that of the demons of the inferno.

"I think that can be arranged."

* * *

_"Let. Her. Go."_

It was some credit to the prince that he spoke these words with a convicted, almost threatening tone, despite the fact that he was very clearly in no position to be making demands. As if to emphasize his point, he raised his right hand somewhat menacingly, letting it light ablaze.

The Snow Queen, however, was likewise in no mood to appreciate such foolhardy courage. "Don't you threaten me, boy," she snarled, and with a motion of her hand, the chains about his wrists yanked his hand down again, forcing him to stumble forward in an effort to keep his balance. "Now, if you know what's good for you–"

"Hans! Elsa!" A sudden voice drew all their attentions, as Anna and Kristoff came running up the steps. Quick as lightning, the Snow Queen conjured up a wall of ice to block the doorway. _"Let us through!"_ Anna cried, pounding against the glassy material.

"I'm sorry, but this is a private negotiation," the sorceress said almost lightly, turning back to the prince. "I've had just about enough of your obstinacy, Prince Hans, and frankly you've spent the last of my patience. I think it's time we sped this matter along."

"I won't give you the shard, so you may as well kill me now," he snapped.

"I don't need to kill you," she said dismissively. "No, I have something much more valuable on hand now." She glanced to Elsa, smirked. Hans felt his blood run cold.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, no, young prince, _I_ wouldn't," agreed the Snow Queen, still smiling that icy smile. "I don't need to."

He sucked in a breath. Elsa was still struggling to escape her bonds, but otherwise the room had gone pregnantly silent again. On the other side of the ice, Anna was looking between them, confused. "Hans?" she called. "What's she talking about?"

"Do you care about them, princeling?" the Snow Queen cooed. "Do you perhaps even _love_ them?" His face had tensed, gaze flicking between her and his friends. "What would you pay, to keep them safe—to keep them safe from _you?"_

There was a sound from the mirror, and Hans, foolishly, looked at his reflection. The mirror filled with flames. The Arendellian palace was burning, people screaming as they fled the gates. "Stop," he choked out, but he couldn't prevent the mirror from showing him the truth. He saw himself, laughing, that awful manic gleam in his eyes as with his own hands he set the town ablaze, the citizens cowering in front of him, pleading for mercy. "I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"You don't have a choice," the Snow Queen said flatly. "The Mirror calls to its own, and you will listen to it eventually."

"No," he said helplessly, but it sounded hollow even to him.

"If you don't hand over that shard to me, right now," the Snow Queen continued, sneering, "Then you and I both know what will happen. Dawn is on its way, princeling, and I don't intend to release the girl before then. If I fail, I'm taking you and all your little friends with me." She kicked Elsa with her icy shoe, and the queen let out a muffled cry of pain.

His hand found the hilt of his sword. "Don't you touch her!"

"The queen might be your first victim, but I doubt she'll be your last. So what will it be, boy? Will you be the Mirror's servant, or shall I?"

_"No! Hans, please!"_ a voice echoed from inside the mirror, and his eyes snapped to the glass to see a reflected Elsa backing away from his double, terrified. Even as he watched, flames bloomed across the mirror, and an agonized female scream seeming to shatter through the glass. The prince let out a raw, anguished noise: _"NO!"_

But it was too late. He saw no figures in the glass, only the flickering scarlet flames, silhouetted here and there by black ash as it floated gently to the ground. A shaking gasp escaped his mouth as the real flames curled around his fingertips, sparks smoldering in the air. It wasn't real. It wasn't real, not yet. But soon- _soon-_

"But you can prevent that, Hans," the Snow Queen stated, breaking his thoughts. _"You_ can be the hero, their great deliverer."

"What do you–"

"Give me what I want," she vowed, "and I will make you king of Arendelle."

Silence fell over the cupola again. Even Elsa stopped her attempts at freedom to stare at him.

"Even as we speak, your brother is besieging the palace." There were collective gasps from the others. "I lent him use of the Mirror's powers, for the time being. But if you give me that little piece of glass, my prince, I will raise for you an army of ice soldiers to assault him and save the town. And when I set the world in endless winter, I will spare your Arendelle—all for their worship of their rightful goddess. Just do as I ask, and I will give you everything you ever wanted: power, wealth, the love and adoration of your people…even her."

The scene in the mirror changed again. He saw a shadowy silhouette figure with a crown sitting on the throne. In an identical throne beside him was another figure, this one familiarly female, her face tilted adoringly up at him, long braid spilling down her shoulders. All around, people were applauding, cheering. He was admired. _Loved. _As Hans looked at the image, he felt himself repulsed by the hunger, the desire that was creeping up within him—and it wasn't coming from the fragment of glass in his hand.

"You know Arendelle would never accept you otherwise. With me, you can finally be the king you were _born_ to be! But if you don't—" The flames and the horrid black ash reappeared, "—Then recall the agony of thinking you had lost her...and compound that with the knowledge that this time, it will be _your_ doing, Master of the Mirror."

Her last words were mocking. His heart was pounding in his ears. Longing and terror clashed within him.

"...If I do this…" he said, trying to think through the fog that was enveloping his mind, "If I give you the shard…the rest of the world will suffer."

"Them? What do they matter? Who are they, these strangers you've never met, compared to the people who will love you for being their savior?"

He stared at the mirror as it wavered between the two options: violence and monstrosity, or a life of contentment and esteem. A world, for those he cared for? Destruction at his hands, or Armageddon at hers?

"It's your choice, Prince Hans," the Snow Queen whispered behind him. "You can be their hero, or you can be their monster. _Decide."_

Behind him, Anna and Kristoff were shouting, beating on the glass; Elsa was straining to speak now through the gag; and yet, he heard none of it. He looked at the mirror, cringed as he saw the beast within finally finish its work, reducing the world to carnage and selfishness…and, in the center of it all, he saw the woman he had come to love, the woman he could not bear to harm again, not even for the price of the whole world. Slowly, he stretched out his hand in defeat, holding the shard in his hands. The Snow Queen smirked. She almost had him. The shard was glowing, flaming with a brilliant light, just inches from the hole in the glass–

"No!"

Both started and turned. Elsa had pushed herself up into a kneeling position and worked free of the icy gag. "Hans, listen to me," she said fiercely. "That _isn't you."_

"What are you waiting for?" the Snow Queen snarled. "Do it!"

"The Prince Hans I know isn't like that," Elsa continued firmly, her expression steady, sincere. "He's good, and he's kind. He loves music and sailing. He saved the life of a little girl in place of his own. And he would never let what he's done before define who he is now."

"Stop this foolishness! Listen to me!"

But the Snow Queen's words went unheard. Hans's mouth had fallen open, stunned. "The mistakes you've made might be a part of your past," said Elsa firmly, "but they don't make you who you are. Not if you don't let them. Hans–" She looked him straight in his green eyes. _"–You are not the monster you fear you are."_

Hans stared at her for one long moment, and the fear in his mind seemed to evaporate, like frost in the first ray of morning sunlight. He pulled his hand away, taking the shard with it. "What do you think you're doing?!" the Snow Queen shrieked.

"You can't make me do anything," the prince said clearly, calmly. "Neither can that Mirror. Neither can any curse. That's my decision." He looked back at Elsa. "I made a terrible, horrible mistake once," he said, almost more to her than to the Snow Queen. "But I'm not about to make it again."

"This is absurd!" The sorceress was in a rage, and it seemed that her wrath was edged with panic. "I'll kill you! I'll kill her!"

"So be it. I'm not afraid of death; neither is she. But if you kill me," he said, voice growing stronger with every word, "You'll take yourself down with me. Dawn is coming, witch, and when it's here, you'll fade away."

"Then I'll leave you here alive!" she shrieked. "And the Mirror will enslave you!"

"No. It won't."

"Why not?"

"Because when you're gone–" He held up the shard, "–When it's just me, and the Mirror, and everyone around me, I will throw away this little piece of glass. I'll put it somewhere no one can ever find it. And then all of us, together, will find a way to destroy the Devil's Mirror once and for all!"

And that was when the icicles slammed him into the wall, and the shard went tumbling out of his hands.

_"Hans!" _Elsa's scream rang through the room, Anna's echoing it. Hans's head lolled from where it had struck the wall, his vision dizzy. There was a pulsing pain in his right shoulder. Through blurry eyes he watched the shard skate across the floor, a point of red against the blue, and come to a stop at the Snow Queen's feet.

"So clever. Almost clever enough."

He peered upwards, trying to refocus his vision. The ice witch's face had gone quite calm, and if Hans could have seen himself he would have known why. Elsa, Anna and Kristoff watched in horror as the reddish tint leeched out of his auburn hair and the flames around his fingers died to nothing, even as the blood from his pierced shoulder dripped to the icy floor.

"Magic has rules, princeling," the Snow Queen quoted coolly, picking up the shard. "It was one thing when you were keeping the shard for your own benefit, whatever benefit that may have been, but as soon as your intention to destroy the Mirror itself was explicit, you rejected its power in fact as well as in law. The Mirror does not brook trickery or treason from its servants."

The pain splintering through his shoulder and fighting against the tide of adrenaline was beginning to throb, but the prince ignored it, terror curdling in his stomach. Something terrible was about to happen, and a curious, if horrified, part of him was waiting to see what.

"I will confess, you people came close to ruining everything," the Snow Queen said idly, turning back to the Mirror. "But no matter. I have what I wanted." And without another moment's hesitation, she approached the mirror and set the final shard into its place.


	43. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

Nothing happened immediately as the Snow Queen withdrew her hand from the Mirror, and for the briefest of moments, every soul present—yes, even that of the sorceress, her thousand-years' task now complete—wondered whether indeed anything _would_ happen.

Then, with a sound like ice freezing over, a ripple began from the center of the shard that had just been replaced, spilling out over the entire mirror, the shards melding together in a glittering crystalline kaleidoscope of cerulean and scarlet as the shattered pane of glass became whole again. The Snow Queen's pale face split into a manic grin, and her reflection in the mirror began to shift, changing from that of a sorceress to hundreds of hideous demons, the visages of countless corrupted men and women, portraits of every form of cruelty and hatred imaginable. Tendrils of blue and scarlet sorcery began to stretch out from the mirror as the glass began to glow, flaming, freezing, the magic swirling around the sorceress, piercing straight through her heart.

What would have killed an ordinary mortal only strengthened the Snow Queen. From where the magic had struck her, there began to grow an icy blue shell, covering her torso, her arms and legs, spreading all the way to those bloodless fingers. Hans's eyes had gone wide. Elsa struggled against the chains, fighting to break free, as the sorceress grew in stature and strength until her height was practically superhuman. The crystalline substance crept up the her figure, encasing her from head to toe and turning her into a many-faceted, flawless sculpture of ice. The Snow Queen laughed, exhilarated by the power, and closed her eyes as the ice froze over her whole face and hair.

And when she opened them again, her eyes were gone, leaving behind nothing but two holes from which glowed a fiery scarlet, like windows to the inside of a furnace. Anna clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her scream, and Kristoff pushed her instinctively behind him, stepping between her and the glass wall.

The Snow Queen smiled cruelly as she tested her now-icy hands, flexing them experimentally. "At last," she said, in a tremulous and terrible voice as she raised her face. "Hear me, o my master: our contract is complete. Let war, famine and death follow; your loyal servant pays her due!" And with a decisive, dramatic gesture, she flung her icy hands to the sky.

The roof of the palace's cupola, which hitherto had been formed of solid panes of bluish, glassy ice, suddenly fractured as though it had been struck with a hammer. The fractures spread further and further, until suddenly, the whole ceiling caved in, raining down in millions of tiny shards. Elsa shielded herself as best a she was able with her bound hands; the pieces clattered off the Snow Queen's icy exterior without leaving so much as a mark, and she cackled as she snapped her fingers.

Across the glittering stars above, a wild and furious storm erupted, worse than the previous two before it. It met the ongoing storm below, intensifying it to a state of utter madness. Just above the cloud-layer, two snowmen and one fire-being looked up, startled, as the clouds covered the sky, and then Ovn shuddered horribly, flickering in the fierce winds. Olaf hurried to shelter her from the wind as best he could with his lumpy snow-form, and all three shrunk down with fear as the great storm swept south down the mountain, dispersing in all directions.

* * *

In a European country marked by its richness of tradition, a tall, thin man paused in his dance with a rather flirtatious maid and murmured, _"Sacrebleu!_ Your Highnesses, look!" The gold-dressed royals themselves ceased to dance and the whole of the Christmas _reveillon _ball crowded around the large glass windows, as the once softly-shining winter moon was covered in dark and ominous clouds.

* * *

In desert nation many leagues to the south, where snow was rarely ever seen and Christmas celebrated by only a few, a young, turbaned sultan and his sultana looked to the diamond-strewn sky in confusion as one light snowflake after another tumbled down to earth, and a cold wind began to blow.

* * *

And in a happy kingdom much nearer to home, another prince and princess sat before a merrily crackling fire in their private chambers, enjoying a hot cocoa and a candy-cane apiece as they spoke of the future. The thief-turned-prince watched his wife with genuine devotion and happiness in his eyes as she looked down dreamily at her growing belly, the most wonderful gift of all contained within on this, their first Christmas as a family, with the promise of so many more to come—and then, the sudden sound of creaking windowpanes drew their attention, and both looked to the balcony doors in startled confusion as outside, snow began to dart fiercely through the previously clear air.

* * *

In the ice palace of that great northern kingdom, the young queen shook off the ice crystals from her cloak and peered skywards. Clouds raced overhead like raging ocean waves. "Arendelle," Elsa whispered.

The Snow Queen laughed down at her. "Did you really believe you could stop me? I _made_ you, Queen Elsa." She raised a hand, blue light snapping around her icy fingers. "And now I will end you." The young woman cringed, expecting to be frozen solid—but a sudden noise drew their attentions.

Still pinned to the wall, Prince Hans was weakly attempting to free himself from the icicle which had punctured his right shoulder. "Isn't it obvious you're too late?" said the Snow Queen, amused. "Soon the whole world will be encased in endless winter." She smiled wolfishly. "You should have chosen my help."

"Yes," Hans groaned. "But…you've forgotten…one important thing…"

"Oh?" the Snow Queen sneered. "And what's that?"

And the prince's green eyes shot up, and he _smirked._

"I'm left-handed."

And he drew his sword and smashed the hilt down on the icicle pinning his shoulder.

* * *

Within the castle far below, the many townsfolk and nobles alike shivered in fear as they looked to the ever-growing storm beyond the thick walls and windows of their ancient stronghold. All the villagers had been gathered together at the stable doors, filling the hallway beyond. Everyone was talking, voices panicked, children crying. "Everyone, please, listen!" Kai called, standing before the assembly. They quickly quieted. "The plan the council has outlined remains the same," he informed them, speaking with urgency. "You are to go out the stables door and across the frozen fjord to the forest; skirt around the bay back inside the town and load up your sleds as quickly and as _quietly_ as you can, then head south as a group."

He paused a breath to peer at them. His fellow townspeople, lords and ladies, the villagers and foreign dignitaries looked back at him, fear and uncertainty etched in every face. Kai knew how they felt: in a single short week their home had gone from a stable haven to thoroughly unlivable, and they were not prepared. The whole town was about to become refugees in the dead of winter, and he knew in his bones it was unlikely they'd all survive the journey.

He resumed his speech. "The southern king believes that everyone is inside this castle; Willum will hold him off as long as he's able, and the castle will block you from view, but you'll need to move quickly. When you reach-"

"Kai, look!" Gerda interrupted in a hushed voice, pointing to the window in the doorway. He glanced outside. The storm had grown fiercer by tenfold, the snow flying and the sky dark as pitch. His expression turned grim.

"The storm has worsened. Does everyone have a lantern?" The townspeople all glanced around, murmuring amongst themselves, and then indicated their assent. "Good. Who here already has a sled?"

"We do," a voice called, and he turned to see the Sámi headwoman and her husband sitting atop their loaded sleigh. Two bright lanterns hung from the front, and Kai nodded.

"Alright. Everyone, follow Risten and Joná across the fjord; stick together, and for goodness sake, hurry! You may not have much time."

He unlocked the bolt and stepped to the side. As the villagers began to pour out of the open gateway into the bitter night, he gave a grim nod to the headman and headwoman. "Good luck to you."

"And yourself," the headwoman said, and snapped the reigns. The reindeer took off at a trot, the lanterns jostling and flaring like twin fiery beacons as the sled vanished out into the night. Kai didn't waste time watching them go; instead he pushed his way through the crowd, headed for the back.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and caught his arm. The manservant turned, startled, to see his wife frowning at him with obvious concern. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Someone has to stay behind to bar the doors," Kai explained grimly. "I'll be out as soon as I can, Gerda; go on!"

"I certainly will not!" she replied, affronted. "I'm staying here to help you."

"Gerda, for goodness sake-!"

"No, Kai," she rounded on him fiercely, jabbing a finger in his chest. "I am not leaving this castle without you! I swore to stay by you in good times and bad ones, no matter the price, and I mean it now as much as I meant it then!" He stared at her, stunned, and her expression softened. "I lost you once, Kai," Gerda said gently. "I won't lose you again."

The unfailing certainty in her voice recalled to his mind that moment, those many years ago, when she had found him sitting so stiff and cold in the Snow Queen's palace, and her tears had warmed his frozen heart. Then, as now, Gerda had stood steadfastly beside him in the darkest hours of his life, his companion in all things, from playfellows at their flowerboxes to man and wife. No, they would not be separated now. He took her hands in his, gave a short nod, and said, "We must hurry. Douse every fire in the building; we mustn't give the king anything more to work with. Bolt every door on the way; I'm going to close the gates."

She returned this with a nod, loyal and determined, and together the pair hurried away, dousing the lamps and locking the doors behind them.

* * *

The bishop stepped sideways, feeling the heat from the jet of flames as they roared past, stopping just short of the wooden gates. He swallowed hard, the blood singing in his ears. He was certain he was to die very shortly, but the longer he could survive, the more time the villagers would have to escape.

The king seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "You pious old fool," he spat with fury. "Do you honestly believe you can stop me? Your death will mean nothing! When I'm finished with you, I will raze this palace to the ground!"

Willum's eyes flashed at that, and he stepped forward decisively, swinging his crosier along the bridge cobblestone. The hooked end, acting in remarkable similarity to a shepherd's crook, caught the king around the ankle and swept him off his feet. Agnar hit the ground with a bellow of startled pain. The bishop drove the end of the crosier downward, hoping to knock him unconscious with the butt of the staff, but the king rolled out of the way just in time and got to his feet before Willum could strike him again, evidence of years of martial training.

"Is this what it comes to, your Majesty?" the bishop demanded. "Do you think you can outwit treason himself? The fruits of this endeavor are all poisoned, each and every one. The very reward of such acts will be your own destruction!"

"The only _destruction_ today will be yours, and that of anyone else who stands in my way!" He was about to let loose another barrage of attacks on the bishop, when suddenly, the fierce winter winds struck both men with a gust far more forceful than before, nearly knocking them over. Both momentarily ceased their attacks to regain their balance, looking to the bitter sky with astonishment.

Agnar recovered first from the shock, for moment the fierceness of the storm had increased, so too did the ferocity of the flames that raged about the southern king. "I've had enough of this," he snarled, lifting his hands, silhouetted by the torrent of fire at his back. "So you love your maker so dearly, old man? Then prepare to meet him!"

A great onslaught of scarlet flames burst forth, too vast and rapid to be avoided. Willum flinched and turned away, expecting a burning pain and then the quiet peace that would mean he was on his way to his good reward. Instead, he felt an intense heat against his old, weathered hands and the side of his face- intense, but not, he noticed, unbearable. When he looked forward again, surprised, he saw that the fire had been split in two by his crosier, just barely avoiding him on either side—an impossible coincidence. _Someone is protecting me._

Agnar stared for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed. "How did you-"

"You have your guardians, I have mine." His hand gripped the crosier tightly. "Listen to me, my foolish son! You cannot make an honest deal with the prince of lies; you can't bargain with evil! Stop this insanity and admit your faults, before they consume you. There's still time."

"You're wrong, old man: _you're_ out of time." Agnar hissed, and the bishop was forced to lift his crosier in defense as another wave of hellfire rushed in.

* * *

The cerulean blast of magic reflected off the sword and struck the wall just behind the Snow Queen. Hans gritted his teeth against the jarring pain in his wrist. He wasn't used to fighting with his dominant hand, and his right arm hurt like hellfire, but he knew that if she managed to disarm him as Elsa had in the chapel he wouldn't last another minute.

The Snow Queen cackled as he parried another blow. "You can't dance forever, young prince!" she crowed. She laughed again as the prince was forced to roll out of the way to avoid another blast of sorcery.

Elsa, meanwhile, was herself somewhat preoccupied with trying to undo the chains that still bound her wrists and ankles. Try as she might, the icy links were too strong to break loose. This was, naturally, slightly problematic, as her current state made it impossible to move out of the way whenever Hans and the Snow Queen's battling got too close.

"Elsa, get out of here!" Hans shouted, deflecting another icy curse in front of her.

"It's not as if I'm not making an effort!" the queen snapped back, trying to pull her wrists out from between the links. In a split second, the prince whirled around and brought down the sword with all the force he could muster on the chains about her ankles. They exploded into a shower of ice chips.

"Thank y—_look out!"_ Elsa shouted. He turned and just managed to duck in time for the sudden barrage of icicles not to impale him through the neck. The deadly projectiles struck the wall of the cupola behind them and shattered.

"Elsa, run!" he urged her, standing as a human shield between her and the sorceress as she scrambled to her feet.

"I'm not leaving without you!"

"Yes you are!" he shouted, blocking another wave of magic. "You're a queen, Elsa, you have a duty to your people! Now _go!"_

She bit her lip, and then nodded and turned, rushing to the doorway. She hurriedly picked up an icicle and began to chip away at the wall of ice blocking the exit. Kristoff had already begun to hack away at it from the other side with his icepick. Hans knew all too well that they'd never have enough time to break through without a distraction, so he decided to do something that many would have called brave, and many more would have called reckless. Perhaps both would have been correct, for what Prince Hans did was this: he laid aside any thoughts to his personal safety and, with every ounce of determination he had, charged the sorceress.

In that moment, the years of naval training paid themselves off in full. Hans jumped over a sudden growth of razor-sharp icicles, rolled forward to avoid another blast of ice-magic, and landed on his feet, still running at full speed. He let the momentum carry him forward as he swung the sword with all his might at her neck, hoping to land the blow.

And, miraculously, he did. Unfortunately, the blow did no good; his sword shattered on impact, and Hans paled. The sorceress smiled.

Quick as lightning, her frozen hand shot out and clutched him by the neck, lifting the prince into the air. "Behold the traitor's final judgment!" she spat, closing her fist's grip tighter and tighter as he gasped for air. Hans saw his vision began to spot gray and black from the inside out. He kicked his legs uselessly, try to break free from the crushing grasp, his heart pounding in his ears, the voices of the others screaming in the distance—

—And then…and then, quite by accident, he noticed something strange. Beyond the Snow Queen's icy face and furnace-like eyes, he saw something entirely inexplicable in the reflection of the mirror. Where there should have been the image of the sorceress's crystalline form, lifting the struggling prince into the air, he saw instead the figure of a young woman, dressed in the simple clothes of the ancient peasants, barefoot and with curling hair flowing in blonde tresses down her back.

"Wait," the prince gasped, and the Snow Queen's icy lips smiled.

"That's it," she hissed. "Beg. Beg me for mercy."

"No- look-"

He managed to remove one hand from its rather essential job at trying to pry the sorceress's fist apart, and pointed to the mirror. The Snow Queen glanced back, and her grip slackened enough to let him breathe as she looked at the image in shock. The fresh-faced beauty looked back at them, her expression similarly surprised.

"Th-that's you, isn't it?" Hans choked out. "Before you became this." The trio behind them stared, too stunned to move. "You– you were betrayed, weren't you? By a man who said he loved you. A man very much like myself." He spoke directly to the reflection, to the girl in the mirror. "I'm sorry. What he did to you was selfish and cruel. He broke your heart. He froze it solid. And I'm very sorry for that."

His green eyes were full of sincerity as he continued. "But frozen hearts can be thawed again." He glanced back to where Elsa stood at the frozen doorway, and then again to the mirror. "I-I know it's not easy to forgive, whether it be others or ourselves. And I know you must think you've done too much, that you've come too far to stop now. But you still have a choice, because beneath it all…you're still human."

_Julia!_

The girl in the mirror stared back at him. For a moment, he thought he saw her lip quiver, tears of remorse fill her eyes. The grip around his neck relaxed ever so slightly. The girl in the mirror was ready to let go.

But then, her face changed into a snarl. "How dare you!" she hissed, and Hans looked back to see the frozen sorceress glaring at him with her hellish eyes. "How dare you speak such blasphemies!"

She threw him to the ground; Hans landed with a bellow on his bad shoulder. "You will pay for this," she snarled. "You have no right to speak such things to me! I am a deity! I am the ruler of all this pathetic, worthless world, and you will be the first sacrifice to my appeasement!" She raised her hand, fingers crackling with an unholy blue light.

Elsa felt the scream catch in her throat as time itself seemed to freeze, freeze into that horrible moment between reality, and the future she couldn't bear to see come true. And then—and then, time thawed again into a rush of purest warmth, a thousand moments flashing before her eyes in crystal clarity, filling her with courage, with compassion…

_"May I present, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."_

_"Your sister is dead! …Because of you."_

_"Elsa, I regret what I did to you and your sister with every fiber of my being."_

_"I understand this excuses nothing, and I'm not asking for your forgiveness."_

_"Hatred and love cannot coexist; eventually, one will overtake the other. Hatred enslaves us, and love sets us free."_

_"I am not defined by the ice of my curse, but by the warmth of my heart."_

_"Hans, I forgive you! I forgive you!"_

_"You sacrificed yourself for me?"_

_"I love you."_

And as her heart was lifted up by the warmth of her understanding, Queen Elsa of Arendelle made her decision. Even as the sorceress's cursed hand came plunging down, she rushed forward, stepping between the Snow Queen and the man she had finally come to forgive, and the power of a heart frozen to solid ice found a willing sacrifice in one consumed with the fire of truest, purest love.


	44. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

* * *

The blast threw her head-over-heels backwards, and Elsa's petite frame slammed violently upon the icy ground. The Snow Queen, startled by the sudden interruption, drew back. As Hans, still gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, struggled to sit up, his gaze caught sight of the queen's face.

Her eyes were closed, her whole body entirely motionless. No breath raised her chest or moved her lips. For Hans, it was as if he had gone deaf, every sound, every thought lost in the emptiness of what had just happened. The word escaped his mouth in a stunned, almost-silent breath as he stared at her still, pale face. _"Elsa…"_

As if from a long ways away, an echoing began to grow in his ears, and something– something he'd forgotten, something that still mattered, although how could anything matter now, if Elsa were– were– he didn't dare think it, he couldn't, but that something drew his attention back, and he turned his head.

Reality flooded back again in full force as he saw the Snow Queen's icy face. Anna was screaming behind him, beating at the glassy doors of ice as she cried out her sister's name again and again. Kristoff, too, was futilely trying to pound through the barrier.

"Unexpected," said the Snow Queen, her voice coolly dismissive. "But, unfortunately for you, quite useless."

The prince stumbled to his feet as the Snow Queen advanced. "Prepare for death, young prince," she said coldly.

Hans took a step back, but refused to move out of the way. There was no way out now, but she wouldn't take Elsa's body. Not even if he had to die to protect it.

The Snow Queen raised a hand, and he shrank back, taking in a breath and praying it would be fast. The air around her hands began to glow–

And then, suddenly, the glow died. The Snow Queen looked at her palm, startled, her blazing eyes seeming to search for something. There was a slight sound in the silence, like the _chink_ of ice on glass. She brought the hand closer to her face, baffled.

Another _chink._ Behind her, the mirror, too, began to fracture. Then the sound of a sharp _crack_ filled the air. Those furnace-like eyes went wide, but it was too late; the cracks were already spreading up her hand and through her arm. The Snow Queen grasped at them futilely, trying to make them stop, but it was no use. Through the fissures glowed the red light from her burning interior, and she let out a little shrieks as the fire inside blazed hotter and brighter. The last glimpse Hans got was of the flaming light shining through the cracks in her face, before he turned away, shielding his eyes from the scorching glow as both the Snow Queen and the Mirror exploded into a million tiny pieces.

* * *

With sudden, almost shocking abruptness, the winds stopped. The two men looked up as the snow ceased to fall and the clouds above their heads seemed to roll back into the sky and vanish, leaving behind the dark night tinted at the edge of the eastern mountains with the gray of twilight on the horizon, and a thousand glittering stars overhead.

Again, as before, King Agnar was the first to recover. He sneered at the bishop, who was still looking in astonishment up at the clear sky. "Now, we end this."

The bishop glanced back, startled, but it was too late. The king brandished his hands and–

And… nothing. Agnar turned his hands towards himself, studying his blazing palms with obvious bewilderment. And yet, even as he watched, the fire slipped from his fingers against his will, splaying out in front of him, forming blazing figures of searing flame. Their eyes glowed menacingly red as they seemed to leer at him. "What the-"

He let out a sharp howl of pain as one of the figures caught hold of his wrist. The pain was as intense as if he had been branded; even in the split second before Agnar tore his arm from its grasp, an ugly red burn had imprinted itself upon his arm. The figure's form was not intangible energy, as fire ought to have been, but instead had a grip like iron. Another latched on to his shirtsleeve and charred it away. "Stop this!" Agnar roared. "I command you!"

The figures seemed to laugh, dark and jeering, and as if in agreement, they all advanced forward. "What are you doing?!" the king shouted as they seized him, by the wrists, by the shoulders, burning cloth, searing flesh.

_"Dun dun dun dun!_

_Dun dun dun dun!" _An awful chanting had filled the air around him as the flaming hands dragged him backwards to some unknown but undoubtedly horrible fate.

"_The time has come to pay the fee,_

_So sign! On the dotted line!"_

"No! Wait!" Agnar begged. "Please, I can do better, I can–"

_"Dun dun dun dun!_

_Dun dun dun dun!_

_Too late to change now that you see,_

_So sign! On the dotted line!"_

"Please, have mercy!" the king screamed.

Willum's eyes flew wide as he realized that the king's control over the hellfire had vanished. Without thinking, the bishop rush forward, his crosier clattering to the ground.

"_For power's gain you sold your soul!_

_Your end, your deal, now pay the toll!"_

"No, no…!"

"_You'll pay your fine for the powers malign,_

_So sign! On the dotted–"_

The chanting was suddenly muffled as the king felt the bishop's hands land on his shoulders. "Release him!" the clergyman bellowed at the hellish forms. "Release him, I say; he is not yours to take!"

"Get back, you fool!" Agnar shrieked, trying to push him away. "Are you mad?! Get away from me!" The hellfire surged again, accompanied by the menacing, beating chants. _"Dun dun dun dun-"_

"You must fight them, your Majesty!" Willum said fiercely, refusing to release his grip despite the fact that he could feel the heat scorching at his hands. "I beg you, stop resisting me; I can help you!"

"You can't help me! No one can help me!" His eyes were wild, even mad, his voice pitched with hysteria. "Get away, I say, get away!"

_"Dun dun dun dun-"_

"You can still escape!" Willum shouted. "Please, your Majesty! End this now, before it kills you!"

"I can't!" the king said wretchedly, voice breaking with despair. "I can't! Don't you see? They have me; I'm too far gone."

"You're not," Willum answered firmly. The flames billowing all around him were beginning to burn his hands in earnest now, but he ignored them, attention fixed on the man in front of him. "King Agnar, listen to me: do you think Heaven has abandoned you? Do you think so little of the mercy of God? All the Father ever wants is for His wayward sons to come home."

"The father's mercy?" the king demanded. "What mercy has he to offer me? I have never found any _mercy_ on Earth; why should Heaven be any different?" He shook his head as he said, voice filled with bitter hopelessness, "_I have no father."_

And in that moment, the bishop saw beyond the monstrosity the king had become, beyond the tyrant and the traitor. He peered within, and saw a young boy—bright, talented, desperate for praise—toiling endlessly to please a harsh, uncaring father. The man, mistaking vulnerability for weakness, had refused to love anyone—no, not even his own firstborn. And Willum remembered his own father: a poor, illiterate bricklayer, ranked as nothing in the world's eyes, but always generous and kind, and in his love his children had seen an icon of Heaven. And at last, he understood.

"You have a Father, Agnar," the bishop said softly. "A Father who loves you very dearly, even now. A Father who never abandoned you." His grip grew stronger. "Please, let me _help_ you; it's not too late."

"I don't deserve your mercy," the king muttered. Hellfire raged; despair was closing in. He'd failed, Agnar thought bitterly. He'd failed. The shard had changed nothing; he was still weak, helpless, unworthy…

But the bishop's hand was steady on his shoulder, despite the heat and the pain.

"Mercy isn't earned. Love isn't earned. It's just given."

The chants had faded to a whisper, drowned out by each benevolent word. Through the flames, the king's eyes found the castle at the end of the bridge. _Arendelle. _The kingdom had consumed his thoughts, his plans for more than a decade. Now here it was, frozen over, populace terrorized, a single man's warpath abruptly come to naught. Suddenly it all seemed so pointless. _What was it I wanted here?_

Proof. Proof that he deserved everything his father had so grudgingly left him. Proof that he was not a failure. Proof that he was a worthy son.

_Your Father loves you. It's not too late._

And for a brief moment, he thought of his mother.

_You are still His son._

The Southern king began to shake, taking in sharp, gasping breaths as he collapsed forward. Willum steadied him as the flames and voices vanished, and Agnar began to sob, sob like he hadn't done since he was a very small child.

"I know. I understand," the bishop said gently.

"Help me, please," the king wept. "Help me."

"You've been lost for a very long time. But it's all right now. You're home."

The broken man nodded despite the sobs that still shook his shoulders, and as if by some miraculous power, the King of the Southern Isles knelt to the ground, bent low in humility and gratitude.

* * *

_Through the great frozen depths of hellfire below, there came a horrendous howl of pain and hatred, and all the prisoners of Hell knew that a soul had been lost to the Enemy once again._

* * *

Eventually, the scorching light died, and Hans opened his eyes. The Snow Queen was gone, not even little traces of ice remaining where she had stood. The Devil's Mirror, too, was nothing more now than an empty frame, the shards having been dissolved completely into nothingness. He looked behind him, startled, as Kristoff's axe and Anna's beating hands finally pounded through the icy wall, and they stumbled over the icy chunks into the cupola.

For a moment, they stood in stunned silence, before Hans remembered what had happened just prior to the Snow Queen's demise. "Elsa!" he shouted, whirling around in desperation.

He, Anna and Kristoff all hurried to where the Queen lay unmoving on the ice, like a blue-dressed ragdoll tossed carelessly aside. Elsa remained still and lifeless even as Hans knelt down and took her into his good arm, cradling her like a small child. Her face was pale, paler than he'd ever seen it. Her dark hair and eyebrows stood out stark against the porcelain skin, and her lips were tinged purplish-blue at the edges. "Oh, Elsa," Hans murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. Her skin was cold as ice. "Why would you do something so foolish?"

The Queen didn't answer. He hadn't really expected her to. Hans felt a sharp burning begin behind his eyes, and the world blurred over.

"A true love's kiss," Anna suddenly breathed.

"What?" He looked up.

"An act of true love can thaw a frozen heart," she said, a flicker of hope blooming in her eyes.

"Anna– it wouldn't work, she… she's already…" He couldn't finish.

"You have to try!" the princess said fiercely, tears brimming in her eyes. _"Please,_ Hans!"

He looked between her and the cold, still woman in his arms. If there was even the barest ghost of a chance Anna might be right, he couldn't falter now. Slowly, he tilted her chin up with his hand and leaned down.

His lips brushed gently against hers, and then pressed more insistently, a silent plea and prayer burning in his heart. He pulled back, not daring to breathe, hoping against hope…

A moment passed. And then another.

Elsa didn't move.

His face twisted into a grimace, and the tears he'd been fighting spilled down his cheeks. Anna let out a shuddering gasp and buried her face in Kristoff's chest. "I'm sorry," Hans whispered to the lifeless queen, closing his eyes in defeat. "I'm so sorry…"

Outside the broken walls of the cupola, the dawn of holy Christmas morning spilled rosy over the frozen land, bringing shouts of joy and relief from the villagers hiding in the forests below. As the wild and strange blizzard that had begun to spread across the earth faded to nothing, many souls throughout the whole world, both great and small, rejoiced as they were called by the church-bells of many steeples to hear the Holy Mass, and witness to the Light that had at last arisen over the dark and frozen world. But atop the mountain, all was silent and cold and still, as the three souls mourned the loss of she who had been their beloved queen, their sister, and their friend.

Then…then, ever so barely, Elsa's face twitched. Slowly, her cerulean eyes fluttered open, blinking and squinting. They frowned as her vision came into focus, and saw that the man holding her was crying. With gentle fingers, she reached up and brushed away the tears from his cheek.

The prince opened his eyes, shocked, and looked down. "E-Elsa?"

Anna looked over sharply, her eyes flying wide. "Elsa!" she cried, bounding forward out of Kristoff's grasp and nearly tackling her older sister, who was still being held protectively in the prince's arms.

The elder laughed and shifted so that she could hug her sister back. "Anna."

"You scared me half to death, you big dummy!" the younger mumbled, pulling back and wiping her eyes.

"I guess this means we're even, huh?" Elsa said, trying to joke about the matter although it was clear she was pretty shaken.

"D-don't say that," Anna said, sniffling. "Elsa…"

"I know, I know," the elder said, smiling. "I love you, too." Anna hugged her again briefly, and then drew back. Kristoff took her into his arms again. The couple glanced at each other and smiled, Anna still wiping her eyes. Elsa grinned at this, and then looked back up to Hans.

For a long moment, neither knew quite what to say. In the end, Hans fixed the problem by pulling her in and embracing her fiercely. "Don't you _ever_ do that again," he ordered.

"What, save your life?" Elsa chuckled.

"I meant nearly getting yourself killed." The feeling of her warmth and movement in his arms was enough to bring more tears to his eyes, and he shut them tight. Anna and Kristoff tactfully pretended not to notice.

When they broke apart, and Elsa smiled. "I guess this means you and I are even now, too."

Hans managed to smile back, understanding exactly what she meant. "I guess we are," he agreed.

He stood up, lifting her with him, and then set her solidly on her feet. Elsa swayed a little, and he steadied her. "Easy. Can you walk?"

"I-I think so." She took a step, and stumbled. Anna quickly caught her by the shoulders.

"Maybe you need some help," the princess recommended sagely. "You both might, actually."

Elsa let out a little gasp as she looked to the prince. "That's right, you're hurt!"

_"Ach..."_ Hans winced badly as the adrenaline abruptly lost some of its potency and he gripped his right shoulder. "I wish you hadn't reminded me..."

"Let me see that." Kristoff took off his scarf and made short work of putting a messy bandage over the wound. He helped the prince ease the arm into Elsa's broken satchel as a makeshift sling and added, "Keep pressure on that; Grand Pabbie should be able to fix you both up if we get you down the mountain quick enough."

With Anna guiding her sister and Kristoff helping the prince along, the four made their way through the destroyed castle and outside into the dawn. They paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs, blinking in the warm light, and then descended the staircase to the hilltop below. As they walked, Elsa called out, "Olaf! Ovn! Marshmallow!"

To the surprise of none but Hans, three figures rounded a rock formation ahead of them and came hurrying (or, in the case of Marshmallow, lumbering) up to the small group. "Elsa!" Olaf cried, nearly skipping with joy. "Ooh, I knew you could do it! I knew it as soon as the storm went away. And look; we fixed Marshmallow!"

The snow-monster behind them made a noise of happy contentment, and Elsa giggled. Then, her attention was drawn to the third figure, who was standing at Olaf's side. "Hello, Ovn."

"Hello," the fire-being said shyly. She looked to the prince, who was standing, shocked, at the queen's side. "Uncle! Oh, I'm so glad you're alright!"

"You—I made you," Hans recalled, stunned. He knelt down before the floating figure. "You're incredible. What's your name?"

"Ovn," she replied, clasping her translucent hands behind her back.

"She saved our lives," Elsa informed him.

"But how? You're so-"

"-Small," Ovn finished. "And weak. Yes, I am. But sometimes the small and the weak can do great things, Uncle."

"Yes," he answered, smiling slightly, "Sometimes they can." She beamed back.

"We should start making our way down the mountain," Anna advised, patting Sven's nose affectionately. She looked to Elsa, and it seemed to the elder sister that the younger had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Trust me, it's a long way home."

And together, the four young royals and the two magical beings set off down the white slopes, the snow sparkling in the bright dawn of Christmas morn.


	45. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: The unwritten discussion Elsa and Hans have in the library is told in part in my story, "Change," which takes place shortly after Hans's attempt at suicide in the Southern Prisons. Content warnings do apply.**

**So this is the last chapter! It's a long one due to wrapping everything up, but I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

And a long way it was indeed, even in the sled. Thankfully, although Marshmallow had remained behind, Olaf and Ovn accompanied them, and the latter was able to keep the whole group comfortably warm despite the morning chill. After an hour or so, Kristoff pulled the sled into the troll's ravine. "The snow's already melting," Elsa observed, looking around.

And indeed it was. Here and there, spreading patches of green moss were being revealed as the snowdrifts melted into trickling rivulets of water, and everywhere you could heart the _drip-drip_ of water from the trees. "Hey guys!" Kristoff called, disembarking from the sled. "It's okay! We're not dead!"

There was movement from further up the ravine, and then the small landslide of boulders came tumbling down. They surrounded the cart as they uncurled. "Kristoff, my boy!" cried Bulda, leaping up as he knelt down to pat his face. "You're alright!"

"Anna, dear, thank goodness..."

"Could you go get Grand Pabbie?" the princess asked Cliff, who was patting her hand anxiously. "Hans needs help."

"I'm right here, my dear." The aged troll pushed his way through the crowd. He gave a bow to Elsa. "Your Majesty, I owe you my thanks."

"Think nothing of it," the queen insisted, but she was still shivering despite the warmer air, warming her hands over the nearest geyser.

"Bulda, get the queen some warmed cordial," the chieftain said firmly. "Prince Hans, sit down, here..." As he tended to the young man's shoulder, he said in a lower voice, "Tell me everything."

"So, tell us about the wedding!" Bulda urged as she passed a steaming stone mug of medicine to the queen. She waggled her stony eyebrows at her adopted son and the princess. "Are you human and wife?"

Anna and Kristoff glanced at each other. "Uh, well..."

"I can leave if you'd rather discus this personally," Elsa offered, about to stand, but Anna gently pushed her down.

"You stay right where you are. Besides, this concerns you too..."

Over at the other geyser, Hans let out a muffled noise of relief as his shoulder finished healing. "Thank you," he sighed.

"So, Elsa destroyed the mirror with an act of true love," the old troll mused. "These Arendellian sisters do seem to have a way with that."

"That they do," the prince said, watching them. He saw the queen's face in profile, listening with gentle concern to her sister and the mountain man, and without his realizing it, a smile graced his face. Grand Pabbie observed this, looking between them.

"And you, Prince Hans? Will you tell her about your own act of true love?"

"...I'm not sure," he admitted. "If there's any chance she feels the same way, things could get...complicated." He knew, if he stayed in Arendelle—if, perhaps, he became king—he would never be able to ignore what he'd done, and neither would anyone else. _If I stay, I'll never be able to run away from the past. _Furthermore, the temptation to seek and abuse power would always be near at hand—and the need to face himself every day in the mirror.

"Love is often complicated." He looked over. The old troll was watching his adopted grandson and the two Arendellian royals with a curious expression. "So is doing the right thing."

"I don't know if I can be a good king," the prince admitted honestly. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for that."

"None of us are strong enough on our own." The troll nodded to the trio with knowing look. "That's why we oughtn't go through life alone."

Hans didn't reply, but his found the Arendellian queen again, and her sister and the mountain man with her—and he thought he felt, somewhere deep down in his chest, the last few sparks of fear and anger fading away.

"Well now, that's your whole problem," Cliff said promptly, as Kristoff finished the story. "You two need to work on your communication."

"Yeah, we figured that one out for ourselves," Anna said with a nervous laugh, taking his hand in hers. The blond smiled, embarrassed, and gripped it back.

"Kristoff, next time, please do tell me when these things occur," Elsa advised him.

"I didn't want you to think– I don't know, that I couldn't handle it," he admitted. "Besides, Elsa, Lord Finnmork holds a lot of cards; I didn't want to make things worse..."

"I see..." The queen had a thoughtful look in her eyes, but before she could speak, Hans approached the group.

"We should be on our way. Your kingdom will be wondering what's become of their royal family."

"Good point. Grand Pabbie—thank you," Elsa said, curtsying. "We wouldn't have succeeded without your help."

"It is I who owe you my thanks, Queen Elsa." But by the look in his eyes, she could tell he was curious.

"We'll visit again soon," she promised, and he nodded.

The trolls waved them off as they loaded back in the sled. "Ooh, look!" Anna cried, as Kristoff snapped the reigns. "The flowers are sprouting!"

And indeed they were. White snowdrops and wild red roses were peeping through the grass. The princess looked back at them, delighted—and saw that the both the prince and queen had gone marvelous shades of pink, determinedly not looking at each other. Anna grinned and elbowed Kristoff as they sped off, and he chuckled in return.

* * *

It was nearing noon when they found themselves on the ridge above the waterfall, overlooking the town. Anna frowned, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand and peering out to sea. "There's a ship coming in," she said with surprise.

Hans squinted in the sunlight. "And it's flying a Coronian flag."

Ten minutes later, they reached the town. Villagers were milling about, hugging each other and rejoicing, avoiding an unexpected number of carts. Captain Marcusson was present to met them. "Your Majesty, Highnesses, Sir Kristoff. Glad to see your safe return."

"Thank you, Captain," Elsa asserted. "The town seems in a bit of an uproar. What's happened?"

"A great deal, your Majesty, but before I explain, the Coronian military ambassador would like to speak to you. Apparently they have some of your captives on board?"

They met the military ambassador at the docks, a stiff-backed man with an impressive mustache and a rather unusual weapon. "Captain Hartman at your service, your Majesty," the ambassador said, bowing professionally. "Representing their Majesties King Frederick and Queen Arianna of Corona. The Coronian royal family sends their utmost congratulations, as well as their apologies for their absence. Considering the mysterious ship disappearances in your waters, they thought it better to send military representatives."

"Are those frying pans?" Anna whispered to Kristoff, who looked at the captain's choice of weaponry and shrugged.

"We found _these _rogues-" The Coronian captain gestured behind him, and several more guards forced forward five cuffed, rather familiar men, all of whom were scowling and flushed with embarrassment, "In three armed ships guarding the passage between Arendelle and the Southern Isles."

"You don't say," Hans said, glaring at his brothers.

"They'd already taken one of our own vessels and a Dun Broch trade ship captive, as well as a small Arendellian ship. We were in position to do battle when the sea froze over." He chuckled. "Apparently they'd run out of rations, and surrendered when they realized they couldn't get back to shore. We waited until the sea thawed a few hours ago and then sailed to port. What would you like us to do with them, your Majesty?"

"They'll face trial, naturally," Elsa replied coolly, glancing at the five Southern princes, "However, there's certainly no time for one today. Bring them to the prisons."

"As well as the rest of my brothers," Hans added. "Find them and make sure they don't cause any more trouble."

"Yes, your Majesty…ah, your Highness." Captain Hartman and the rest of the Coronian guards led the five princes away. Another man approached, saluting.

"Your Majesty." Elsa curtsied back. "The Southern Isles do not appear to be far along in their preparation for a naval invasion, with the exception of the aforementioned three ships. My most emphatic apologies for being taken captive upon my return."

"The Southern Isles aren't going to go to war?" Anna asked.

"Princess, it seems they were not anticipating launching an invasion for at least several months—March at the earliest."

"That would make sense, if they thought the Snow Queen was going to get rid of me for them," Elsa added dryly. "They'd send a small fleet afterwards to quell any uprisings, but they wouldn't need to wage a full war."

"I'm sorry, but the who, your Majesty?"

"I'll explain everything later," she reassured the spy. "For now, go get some rest; you deserve it." The man saluted again and hurried away. "Now, Captain Markussen, perhaps you can explain why the village seems to be in such a state of celebration?"

"Naturally, your Majesty. We were about to head south, on Sir Kristoff's orders, when King Agnar attacked the castle. He had some sort of enchantment, your Majesty, not unlike your and the prince's own."

"We've heard that much," Hans addded. "But how did you stop him?"

"We escaped across the fjords into the forest following the Sámi families while Bishop Willum remained behind to hold him at bay, and–"

Before he could finish, Hans took off at a brisk pace, startling the rest of the group. "Hans!" Elsa called.

He didn't glance back, instead quickening his step until he was nearly running, hand on the pommel of his sword as he approached the castle, searching for any sign of the king. Much to his shock, he found him almost immediately: Agnar and Bishop Willum were both kneeling on the bridge that led to the castle gates. Willum had a bracing hand on the king's arm, and Agnar was nodding as the bishop spoke, looking shaken and pale even from a distance. His clothes were covered with soot and scorch marks.

Hans started forward angrily, gripping the hilt of his sword, and somehow they must have heard him because both looked over. The prince stopped short, startled by a look he'd never seen before in his eldest brother's eyes: pure and undiluted fear.

Hans looked over to the bishop, baffled at this reaction. Willum's eyes were deadly serious, and he gave a slight shake of his head. The prince took a step back, surprised and a little abashed, and watched as Willum turned again to the king. Agnar bowed his head, and Willum put his hand overtop his brow, murmuring a prayer. Then he helped him stand up, and the king willingly offered his hands to be cuffed as the guards approached. Kai (who had appeared with Gerda at the door) said something to the guardsmen, and they nodded and walked through the door.

Once the king had been led away, Willum, Kai and Gerda crossed the distance between where he'd been and where the group was standing. "What was that about?" Hans asked the bishop, bewildered.

The bishop raised an eyebrow mildly. "Forgive me for being rude, young prince, but I don't really believe it's any of your business."

Hans blinked, and then flushed red, embarrassed. "Of course. My apologies; I won't ask again."

"Very good. I see everyone has returned safely," he said, with obvious relief. "And the Snow Queen–?"

"She's gone," Elsa said simply. "The Mirror, too."

The bishop sighed at that. "Ah, a shame. I had hoped she might see sense."

"Hans tried," Anna offered. "But…" She trailed off.

"It may have been in her last moments she repented; if so, God is merciful," said the bishop wisely. "I do hope that was the case, for her sake. Well, it's over and done with now; we'd best get on with our own lives. But may I ask, how did you defeat her?"

The four of them, in alternating interjections, quickly explained the whole story. "–The only thing I still don't understand," Elsa finished, "Is what happened to the Mirror."

"I think I can answer that," said Willum with a smile. "You said you sacrificed yourself for the prince, yes? A heart fully purified by love cannot be affected by a curse, and there is no greater love than to give up your life for another. When you took the Mirror's power into your heart, you purified it of corruption with your sacrifice, just as your own shard was purified all those years ago. The Mirror was forged together with hatred; with that gone, its power was set free and the Mirror dissolved."

"But then why was she…?" Hans trailed off, remembering with an uncomfortable jolt the queen's blue-tinged face and ice-cold skin.

"The sacrifice had to be genuine," the bishop reasoned. "Evil work does has its effects, after all. But with the love in your heart, your Majesty, you weakened the Snow Queen's curse, just as your sister did two summers past." Elsa smiled at Anna, who squeezed Kristoff's hand and smiled back. "For those who die in a state of purest love," the bishop continued, "death is no more permanent than sleep. I imagine the queen only had to be 'woken up,' per say—perhaps with some other act of true love?"

"Well, the only thing I can think of is a true love's kiss," Kai said in a business-like manner.

"A what?" Elsa said, turning to look at him in surprise.

"A true love's kiss. I was half-dead myself with cold when Gerda found me, but a kiss or two from her set me aright again straightaways. Although who could've performed such a task on _you, _your Majesty, I couldn't say, I–" His amused ramblings were cut off by a sharp smack on the arm from Gerda. He glanced at his wife, startled, before it dawned on him, and he quickly closed his mouth.

Elsa watched this, baffled, and then looked around the group, as if hoping they would have an explanation. Her eyes landed on Hans, whose own gaze was fixed on the ground. His face had gone a mortified red, the blush stretching from his neck to the tops of his ears. Elsa's mouth dropped open, and she looked to Anna, who gave a nervous little nod.

Flushing scarlet, the Queen forced herself to close her mouth and drew herself up again. "Well, never mind that for the moment. Is everyone here alright?"

"Everyone is fine, m'Lady," Gerda replied. "Quite a few are inside; I'm sure they'd be very pleased to see you alive and well."

"Then they shall, by all means," Elsa agreed. "I get the feeling it's been a long night for everyone."

* * *

The many villagers who had returned the castle were more than overjoyed to see their queen alive and well, and rushed to crowd around her almost as soon as they saw her, leaving the prince, princess and harvester to watch with mild relief. Hans quickly went to find some way to help a peasant family who was having some trouble locating all their children (the recent and nearly constant rush of adrenaline had not quite worn off, leaving his driven nature still restless), and Anna and Kristoff found themselves on a small island of solitude in the midst of all the busy activity.

"Looks like everything turned out alright, hm?" Anna said cheerfully, watching the many families and individuals collect their meager belongings, eager to get back to their homes as quickly as possible. "Everyone seems to be okay, anyway."

"Yeah, looks like," Kristoff agreed. They lapsed into silence for another few moments, and then Anna sighed and turned to look about him.

"So, um, about what happened on the mountain," she said, biting her lip nervously. "Are we, you know, good again?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Are we?"

"Well—I think I am, now that I understand what you were going through." She winced. "Kristoff, I'm _so sorry._ I never knew how much stress you were under, and I didn't realize I was contributing to it—I mean, I know that I'm pushy sometimes, I don't mean to be, it's just that I get excited and-"

"Anna," he said, cutting her off. "You're not pushy." She gave him a look. "Okay, maybe sometimes you are. But that's okay. No one's perfect, and even if you are sometimes a little, uh, over-enthusiastic, that's fine with me. I'd rather spend a lifetime learning to deal with pushy than a lifetime without you."

She broke into a nervous grin at that. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it. And, uh, I guess I sort of have to apologize, too."

"Kristoff, you don't–"

"No, I do. I caused a lot of problems by avoiding you, instead of trying to work things out. I just…I'm not a big talker, you know that, and…" He sighed. "I mean, I know I shouldn't go bottling stuff up like that, but sometimes it seems easier to just keep what's bothering me to myself, y'know? But I'm gonna try, Anna, I really am, I promise."

"I know," she said with an understanding smile. "I just want you to know that, well, I guess that I'm here for you, no matter what. So if something's bothering you… I want to be able to help. Even if that's just by… giving you your space every now and then."

He smiled at her. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"I've been told," she answered teasingly.

"Well!" a voice said, and both turned to see Elsa watching them with obvious satisfaction. "I take this to mean the wedding's back on?"

The two glanced at each other and nodded happily. "The wedding's back on," they agreed in unison.

A sudden commotion drew their attention away. "Your Majesty!" a voice was calling, and all three looked over to see a skinny, tight-lipped older gentleman hurrying through the crowds in their direction.

Kristoff groaned. "Speaking of things that bother me…"

"Your Majesty, thank goodness you're here!" Lord Finnmork exclaimed as he approached them, bowing to Elsa and looking flustered and a bit ruffled. "We were all about to head south on Mr. _Bjorgman's_ orders-" He shot a glare at Kristoff, "-when the sky cleared, and we assumed such utterly drastic measures were not actually necessary."

"The Snow Queen is no more; there's no need to evacuate the town," Elsa replied reassuringly.

"Well, thank goodness for that! To leave our home and land to wander the country like some primitive nomads! Surely, your Majesty, you can see now that such a man is not fit to be our prince!" Lord Finnmork said vehemently. "I submit to your Queenship that you do not allow the princess to marry a mere commoner. After all, the royal family must have its _standards."_ He looked at Kristoff with distaste, who returned the favor.

Elsa appeared to consider this. "You're right," she agreed.

"And furthermore, I—oh!" He stopped short, and then smiled and bowed again. "Most wise, my Queen. I thank you."

"Yes, it is _most _unfitting for a princess to marry a mere _peasant,"_ Elsa said in a faux high-and-pompous tone, lifting her nose into the air. "A true scandal, if I do say so myself."

"I agree wholeheartedly!" Lord Finnmork exclaimed emphatically.

"However…" the Queen said, turning to look at Kristoff with a smile. "It is _entirely_ acceptable for her to marry the official Ice Master and Deliverer."

"Yes, I- beg your pardon?" Lord Finnmork said, startled.

"Not to mention our newly-appointed ambassador and administrator of all relations with the northern Sámi peoples," Elsa continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Their rich culture is a blessing the crown has neglected for far too long. And to think that our new prince should be of both Arendellian _and_ Sámi heritage, and fluent in their language! Truly it is fortuitous, don't you agree, Lord Finnmork?"

"I- I-" He looked between the determinedly-not-surprised Kristoff and the cordially smiling Elsa, and deflated. "Yes, your Majesty, quite fortuitous," he mumbled. "If you'll excuse me…" He wandered off, looking rather glum.

Elsa smiled and dusted off her hands, and Kristoff couldn't hold back a snort. Then the ice harvester looked over to Anna, and his smile fell. His eyes dropped to the ground. "Um… sorry you had to see that," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Kristoff, it's okay," Anna said earnestly, taking his other hand in hers. He looked up, surprised. "Like I told you on the mountain," she said firmly, "I love you for who you are—and that includes what you do and where your family's from. I'm _proud_ of you, Kristoff; you should be proud of yourself, too."

"You are?" he said uncertainly.

"Yeah, of course I am." Her green-blue eyes were sincere. "And I know you've been trying to protect me from all of this, but I don't want you to."

"Anna-" he started, but she cut him off.

"Mm-mm. If I'm going to be your wife, then I want to be your wife in _everything—_and if that means people talk about me behind my back, then I can handle it." She squeezed his hand. "We go through things together now, remember?"

He grinned back at her. "Yeah. I guess we do." He looked to Elsa. "You really think I can handle this?" he asked seriously. "I've never been an ambassador before."

"I wouldn't be appointing you if I didn't believe in you," she said firmly. "And to be frank, Kristoff," she gestured around at the palace, in which more than a few of the Sámi villagers had congregated with the townspeople and aristocrats to see what would happen next, "Yes, you have."

Anna giggled at his embarrassed yet proud expression, and then turned to her sister. "We want to get married," she said firmly. "Today. I mean–" She blushed and glanced up at her fiancé, "–If that's okay with you."

"You kidding? I don't want to wait another minute," Kristoff laughed. "What do you think, Elsa? Do we have your blessing?"

"Well, it's a little short notice, and we haven't much in the way of food fit for a ball or any such, but if that's what you want, then you have my permission."

"If that's the case, then we really ought to talk to Bishop Willum," said a fourth voice, and all three glanced over to find, to mild surprise, that Hans had appeared there at some point during the conversation. "After all, the chapel is in rather poor condition, if I remember correctly."

"Good point," Elsa said, flushing a little. She spotted the clergyman some ways away and called, "Willum!"

The bishop glanced up and then hurried over at her call. "Your Majesty?"

"The princess and our Official Ice Master would like another opportunity to exchange their wedding vows," Elsa said formally, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "Unfortunately, considering the damage done to the chapel…"

"Well now, my dear, a church is a church, no matter the state. Besides, the damage was rather superficial. Why don't we go see, hm? You may be remembering it worse than it really is."

* * *

Standing in the center of the chapel, the twin winces on Hans' and Elsa's faces were evidence that they'd remembered it _exactly_ as bad as it really was.

The green-painted walls around the apse had been stained by black scorches and water damage from the ice; there were also several pitted marks directly to the left of the altar where the queen had pinned the prince to the wall. A few of the pews were similarly marred, and parts of the carpet in the center aisle had been singed away completely. Even the altar had been seared black at the bottom. "Oh, Willum, I'm so sorry," Elsa sighed. "I'll pay for the repairs, I promise."

"Nonsense, your Majesty; it just gives the place a little character," said Willum, looking positively pleased. "Why, in a few hundred years, this could be a site of pilgrimage!"

"I don't think we're anywhere near holy enough for that," the queen chuckled wryly. "Well, just tell me if you change your mind." She looked around at it with mild hopelessness, however, as she thought of the ceremony her sister wanted to have take place so shortly. "I don't know if it's in any state to host a wedding right now, though."

"It's okay, Elsa," Anna said from behind her, and the queen turned to see that the princess was still smiling, her hand held in Kristoff's own. "I don't have a dress either, and there's no cake or feast or really anything left to celebrate, but that's okay with us." She glanced up at Kristoff and grinned. "We'll be happy no matter what our wedding's like."

"Even so, I wish there were something I could do," Elsa sighed. "It's a shame that we had to lose all the good my powers could do to get rid of the Mirror…I guess I never realized how helpful they could be until I lost them." She nudged Hans. "Or yours, for that matter."

"Mine?" he said, surprised. "I don't see how much good fire could really do…"

"Alone, no—just as ice is dead without heat. But together, I think we could have accomplished a great deal," she mused. "Making rain to help the crops grow, for one—or making wedding dresses." She smiled ruefully at Anna. "I'm sorry, Anna."

"Hey, don't worry about it, I'm just glad we–" She stopped suddenly, her eyes going wide, as did Kristoff's and Willum's.

"Anna?" Elsa questioned.

"Elsa. Turn around," the princess said, very softly.

The queen did so, and when she let out a low gasp, the prince followed suit.

Gently hovering in the quiet, holy air of the chapel were two small, faintly shining symbols: one a white snowflake, surrounded in feathery blue light; the other a small flame, like that of a candle, casting off a bright golden glow. "But how…?" Elsa whispered.

"A gift from Heaven," Willum said softly from behind them, his voice one of awe. "Your powers have been returned to you—free from the Snow Queen's curse."

"But—why? And how?"

"Did I not tell you, my dear, that power is not inherently evil?" the bishop answered, smiling. "All power is ultimately from above; while it remained captive and corrupted by the Mirror, it had to be forced upon you, but now it is offered freely as a gift, for the sake of your kingdom."

"Am I supposed to accept it?"

"The decision is yours alone, my queen."

Elsa looked down at her hands, and then to Anna. The princess was smiling as she moved forward to take her sister's hands in her own. "What should I do?" the young queen asked softly.

Anna squeezed her hands. "Powers or no powers, Elsa, you are a great queen." The elder sister smiled. "Do what _you_ want to do."

The two embraced, and then, with a deep breath and an expression of relief, the queen reached out towards the snowflake—and then, she paused.

Hans hadn't moved; instead, he was staring at the bright, flickering flame, his expression clouded with doubt. "Hans? Are you alright?" Elsa questioned.

"The greatest gifts can cause the worst harm if unjustly used," he said quietly, eyes never wavering from the holy light. "I know what sort of man I can be, Elsa, and I don't know if it's wise for such a man to possess this sort of power."

He glanced over, startled, as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. "I know what sort of man you can be, too," the queen said quietly. "And that's why I trust you to take it. Don't let fear of the past determine your future."

The prince bit his lip, still obviously in doubt, and then took a deep breath and nodded. "Together?"

"Together," Elsa agreed, giving his shoulder a warm squeeze. Both looked back to the hovering symbols before them, and then reached forward in unison and closed their hands about them.

In the moment's silence that followed, something changed. No one was really sure how or why, but a deep wind rushed through the chapel, swirling around the pair near the altar. With the wind came a deep and refreshing sense of peace, and everyone closed their eyes, Anna included. When she opened them again, her mouth dropped open. "Elsa!"

"What?" the elder sister said, startled.

"Your hair! It- it's turning light again!"

And indeed it was. The strands of dark brown were now being quickly shot through with whitish blonde, until soon it was all the same pale color it had been before. Hans's, too, returned from brown to auburn. Snowflakes and sparks appeared in the wind, dancing about the pair, and Elsa laughed with the feeling of exhilaration. When at last the transformation was complete, the pair turned to look at each other, each smiling. Hans glanced down to the tiny sparks that were arising constantly from his palms. "Hm. That could be problematic." His mind flashed back to the sunken _Aspiration. _"I never did learn how to control these properly..."

"You just have to practice," Elsa urged him. "You managed it well enough on the mountain."

"Well, I was rather focused then." He concentrated. "'Love will thaw,' right? Or something like that."

"Exactly. Try making something beautiful."

_Something beautiful?_ It was a strange request; he could see how fire could be functional, but beautiful was another matter. Still, he was willing to try. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again when an idea occurred to him. Elsa watched as Hans raised his hands like a conductor to an orchestra, and with a flick of his fingers, gold and scarlet fireworks exploded near the ceiling of the church. Anna gasped in delight, but the show was only the beginning; rather than burning out, the sparks hovered down until they floated in the air about them, like a hundred glimmering candles. Elsa threw her arms out wide, and snowflakes began to drift down from the chapel ceiling. Another sweep of her palm covered the church floor in pure white snow. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, and Elsa looked to her sister with a smile. "Now for the final touch."

The snow began to swirl around her sister, turning her traveling dress into a beautiful glittering wedding gown and veil. Instead of the Victorian style she'd had before, this new dress was instead in traditional Scandinavian design, complete with a sheer white apron, embroidered vest and ribbons. Anna gasped and spun. "Oh, Elsa! It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," Elsa replied. The two embraced briefly, and then Anna stepped back.

"But what about Kristoff?"

"…I might have an idea." The other five looked over in surprise as the harvester himself spoke, and Kristoff flushed. "It's kind of just this thought I've had for a while—but if you guys think it's a bad idea, I'll let it go."

"Well, what is it?" the queen questioned.

He hesitated, and then said all in a rush, "Okay, so a while back I was talking to Sáppá and when he found out I was getting married, he asked if I were going to wear a _gákti—_that's the tunic he wears. I said I didn't have one, and he offered to let me borrow his for the wedding. That was back when the wedding was still off, of course, but now…I don't know. I think it would make Ma proud, y'know?"

Elsa smiled. "Kristoff, I think it's a wonderful idea."

"You do? But what if someone thinks…"

"Your heritage is part of you, Kristoff; you shouldn't have to hide it just because you're becoming part of the royal family."

The ice harvester grinned. "Thanks, Elsa."

The queen nodded. "Well!" She looked around—to the prince, the bishop, and the two lovers who were grinning and blushing like fools. She smiled. "I think it's about time we had a wedding."

* * *

"_Na na na heyana_

_Hahiyaha naha_

_Naheya heya na yanuwa_

_Anhahe yunuwana"_

The choir's voices rose high in the sacred air as the whole congregation turned to look as the doors of the chapel opened wide, and the wedding procession began. First came Willum and the deacon, both dressed in the white vesture of Holy Christmastide, the bishop's gold crosier flashing bright in the sunlight. Shortly behind them followed Kristoff, and there was a faint murmur from the crowd, to see the prince-to-be dressed in the traditional wedding garments of his mother's people: all navy blue with scarlet and gold embroidery, and square buttons to symbolize the life of a married man. Still, the man neither faltered nor flushed in embarrassment, but instead took a deep breath, lifted his chin and walked forward to the altar with his head held high in pride.

Shortly behind him followed the Queen herself, clothed in an elegant dress formed entirely of pale-blue ice crystals, her hair up in its traditional bun. The man escorting her was another occasion of surprise for the congregation, for indeed it was none other than the once-disgraced Prince Johannes Westergaard of the Southern Isles, clad in his formal navy uniform, although lacking his white leather gloves. Hardly did the people have time to register this, however, before their attentions were drawn to the next pair of figures- the now-familiar snowman Olaf (his "flurry" again restored) and a small, clearly female creature that looked remarkably like a candle. The former bore a pillow with two rings, the latter tossing little flower-like flames that vanished before touching the snow-dusted floor.

Then, everyone quite forgot about the oddly adorable little creations, the queen and the prince, and even the groom himself, for at last their eyes alighted upon the loveliest figure in the whole procession.

Kristoff felt his heart cease to beat for one impossibly long moment, his breath catching in his throat. Anna looked to him and then blushed, ducking her head. Why she seemed so suddenly shy was an utterly wonderful mystery to her husband-to-be, for the princess, the love of his life, shone as lovely as the winter snow and as radiant as the summer sun. Her dress, veil, and yes, even her eyes seemed to sparkle in the gold sunlight streaming through the windows, red hair ablaze, her blush like twin roses on her freckle-spotted cheeks. And if there were a catch in the throat and tears in the eyes of him who was about to wed her as his bride—well, who could blame him?

"_Deilig er jorden,_

_prektig er Guds himmel,_

_Skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsgang!_

_Gjennom de fagre,_

_riker på jorden,_

_går vi til paradis med sang!"_

Kai and Gerda escorted the princess to the front of the chapel, and then left her to go stand at one of the pews. Anna bit her lip and glanced up at the man before her, and she saw a hundred things in that moment: an ice harvester, a loyal friend, a commoner, and a true love—a man of honor, hard work, compassion, and utter devotion. Kristoff, too, looked and saw the princess for her truest self: a woman of enthusiasm and passion, a princess and a friend to all, and at her heart, a person of deepest loyalty and unfailing kindness. Together, they joined hands, her small, slender palm fitting perfectly inside his strong gasp, and heard the Christmas Mass.

Following a wonderful homily, Willum looked to the man and woman before him. "And now, we shall witness an image, an icon, of that same sacrificial love which Heaven has given us on this Holy Christmas Day," he declared. "If there be any here who object to the union of this man and this woman, speak now, or forever hold your peace!"

And the church was quite silent.

"Then we shall proceed to the vows." He looked to Kristoff and said, very seriously, "Do you, Kristoff Nihkke Bjorgman, take Anna Katharina Andersen for your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," Kristoff said earnestly, unable to keep from grinning. He squeezed Anna's hands in his.

"And do you, Anna Katharina Andersen, take Kristoff Nihkke Bjorgman for your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," she said with a smile, and squeezed his back.

"You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined together, let no man divide." Willum looked around and frowned. "Do you have the rings?"

"Oh, right here!" a little voice piped up, and Anna had to stifle a laugh as Olaf—his flurry now restored—hopped up the steps, holding a little pillow in his hands with the rings on top. "Whoa-hoa!" He tripped and nearly dropped the pillow, but found his balance again and held the pillow up as high as his little twig arms could manage.

"Thank you." Willum took the rings. "May the Lord bless these rings which you give to each other as a sign of your love and fidelity." He handed the rings to the pair, and Kristoff slipped Anna's onto her ring finger. She did the same for him, her eyes glimmering with tears like tiny stars.

The bishop smiled. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may–"

Kristoff picked Anna up without another moment's ado, swinging her around and kissing her full on the mouth. "–Kiss the bride," Willum said rather belatedly, chuckling.

Elsa giggled from her place as the maid-of-honor to the side, looking fondly at the pair. As Kristoff pulled back, Anna blushed and grinned at her elder sister. Elsa smiled back and gave her a small nod.

* * *

The ball was truly a merry occasion. People twirled about on the dance floor to the festive sounds of music and laughter. Elsa stood off to the side with a glass of white wine, watching Anna talk animatedly to Kristoff, who couldn't keep that goofy grin off his face.

"Well, this is a conundrum," a voice said to her right, and she turned to see Hans standing there, smiling. "I don't know whether to wish you a Merry Christmas or congratulations on your sister's wedding."

"I think you just did both," she teased.

"Hm. Problem solved, then." He nodded to the couple a ways away. "The bride and groom seem happy."

"Very happy," Elsa agreed. "I don't know when I've seen her so giggly, and that's saying something, considering it's Anna." She chuckled suddenly, and nodded to her right. "Look there."

He did, and found himself smiling at the sight of a certain snowman teaching the little fire creation how to dance. Both were very careful not to touch each other, but the prince distinctly heard Olaf say, "See, it's easy! You just glide and pivot, glide and pivot-"

Hans shook his head in amusement and wonder. "Incredible. They get along so well, even though with one touch they could destroy each other."

"Hm. I think they'll manage just fine," Elsa replied, smiling. She hesitated, and then said, "Hans… there's something about which I need to speak with you."

"Oh?" He saw the way she bit her lip, and his contented expression disappeared. "Oh," he said again, looking down and away.

"No, it's not like that," she said quickly. "Hans, I want things to be right between us—a clean slate, so to speak."

"I don't follow…?"

"I forgive you," she said simply. "And…I'm sorry I couldn't say that earlier."

Hans stared at her, his spring-green eyes stunned. As Elsa watched, his throat convulsed, and he tried several times before he managed to speak: "Y-you-"

"I really do," she said softly. "It's over, Hans. We're free...both of us."

Those green eyes surely had a mist along the bottom of them now, and though neither was quite sure how it happened, Hans found himself embracing Elsa tightly, eyes closed tight in an effort to keep them from spilling over. Elsa, too, smiled gently and closed her eyes. "Thank you," Hans said hoarsely. "And—Elsa, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it." He realized he'd never said it outright. He'd never felt like he had the right, until then.

They broke apart, and Hans chuckled ruefully and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I understand that I still have a long way to go," he said sincerely, "to regaining your trust."

"Thank you for understanding that."

"And I will do everything I can to earn it," he vowed. "You have my word."

The shared a smile, and then Elsa took a deep breath. "There is something else."

"What do you mean?"

"I've looked into international crime laws, and our treaty with the Isles. As it turns out, the trying of a Southern citizen for a crime committed on Arendellian soil falls into the jurisdiction of our courts, not those of the Southern Isles."

Hans's eyes went wide as he realized what she was getting at. "You mean-"

"I mean that your brothers tried you illegally—and, as such, their ruling is invalid. The only courts allowed to try you are Arendellian courts, which in this case would be my council, for a matter of two attempted regicides and high treason. And the only judge capable of pronouncing a sentence on you–"

"–Is you," Hans finished. Elsa nodded. "Then…are you going to retry me?"

"Hm. Well, not exactly." She raised her voice and called out, "Excuse me!"

The heads of her council looked over, startled, as did everyone else in the ballroom. The music thrummed to a halt. "If I could please have everyone's attention," Elsa said calmly, as everyone watched her, confused. "This is truly a joyous occasion—and I have never in my life been prouder of my beautiful little sister." Anna smiled and ducked her head. Elsa smiled, too, and then grew serious as she continued. "Although I hate to interrupt the celebrations, I feel there is a matter that ought to be taken care of in the presence of the entire kingdom, as well as these good representatives of Arendelle's allies. With Princess Anna and Prince Kristoff's permission, I would like to give a full account of what happened on the North Mountain last night." She glanced to the newlyweds, who linked hands with each other and nodded.

With that, Elsa quickly launched into the tale of everything that had happened in the last month, from the day she'd received the letter from the Southern king to the events in her ice palace. When at last the story was finished, the peoples' expressions had changed from confusion to awe to, at last, acceptance and approval. Elsa turned to the man and said, "Prince Hans, if I may borrow your sword?"

His mouth fell open as he realized what she was about to do. Stunned, he unsheathed his sword and passed the hilt to her. "Please kneel," she instructed.

Humbly, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. "Do you, Prince Johannes Westergaard of the Southern Isles, swear to henceforth be always loyal to your chosen lady, to the Church, and to the Crown of Arendelle?"

"I do," he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Do you swear to always defend a woman, regardless of her name or class, and to treat her with such respect as she deserves?"

"I do."

"And do you swear to be honest, brave, charitable, honorable, and compassionate, to defend the poor and the helpless, to never avoid danger out of fear, nor to act dishonorably on the field of battle?"

"I do."

Elsa raised the sword. "I dub thee knight." She touched the sword to his right shoulder, then to his head, and then to his left shoulder. "And moreover, I pardon thee of all crimes committed against the Royal Crown. Rise, Sir Johannes Westergaard, knight of Arendelle."

The crowds announced their approval with applause as Elsa returned the sword to him. Hans's hands were shaking even as he re-sheathed it, and he felt little flames flicker about his fingers. He looked to Elsa, who smiled with gentle approval, and he found himself smiling back.

When the clapping had ceased, Hans inclined his head. "Your Majesty," he said, "the freedom you offer me is generous beyond words, and I am truly honored to be in your service." He paused and, for just a moment, weighed his options. Old habits die hard, after all.

"However…I cannot in good conscience accept your pardon." A murmur spread throughout the hall. "Having the chance to be a hero is not the same thing as making amends," he said firmly. "I have wronged you and your kingdom—a wrong which I intend to repay," he said, turning to look at the people, and then back to Elsa. "If, of course, her Majesty agrees?"

Elsa seemed baffled by this. "Arendelle wishes to repay you—and so do I. There must be some reward I can give you."

He hesitated, choosing his next words with great care. "Queen Elsa…there is a great favor I must ask of you."

* * *

"Alright," she sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. They were sitting in the library, warm sunlight pouring through the windows. Aside from them and the books, the room was quite empty. "You've convinced me."

"Forgive me for playing devil's advocate," Hans said, gesturing, "but, well…"

"Why are you doing this for them?" Elsa peered at him in bewilderment. "After everything they've done to you…"

"Why are you pardoning me?"

"That's different. _You're_ repentant."

"I wasn't, at first," he admitted honestly. "I'm hoping they can be. I told Mr. Bjorgman once that I was better off for being caught and punished for my crimes; I'd like to see them come to the same conclusion."

"Plato," she said with surprise, catching the reference, and he nodded. "You know, you never did tell me," she mused, closing her eyes. The sunshine felt nice. "What was it that changed you?"

"Eighteen months reckoning with my impending demise."

She waved a hand. "I meant specifically. If that's not too personal."

At his pause, Elsa opened her eyes again. The prince was staring down at the desk, brows creased in a mild frown. "...Was it too personal?"

"No, you have a right to know. It's just a rather long story."

"We have time," she said gently. "If you like. I won't push you."

He sighed. "Elsa...to be frank, I'm afraid." He looked pensively at the chink of sunlight falling over her desk. In it lay the hymnal, in which, he knew, rested the rose he had given her in the clearing. "If I stay in Arendelle, I'll never escape the past. If I stay, I can't..."

"You can't run from this," she finished. The man didn't answer. "Hans, take it from someone who has tried," the queen said quietly, "we can't run away from who we are, or what we've done. All we can do is...face it." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "And then _move forward."_

He looked up at her, in the quiet solitude of the library, in the warm winter sunshine, with his judge and friend looking back at him with compassion and a willingness to understand in her blue eyes. This was a good place, he decided, to face his demons. This was a good place to find justice.

"...Your Majesty...have I ever told you about my mother?"

* * *

The cell door opened, and the eleven princes and one king of the Southern Isles looked over in surprise.

Their surprise quickly turned to hatred. "Come to gloat?" Helge said sarcastically.

"Or execute us," Ivar muttered bitterly.

Hans closed the door behind him. "Neither of those things." The eleven princes each let out their own expressions of scornful disbelief, while Agnar alone sat silently, unmoving, unspeaking. The cell, though large, was crowded with so many people, and Hans knew that if it weren't for the cuffs around his brothers' hands, they could have easily torn him to pieces.

They knew it, too. Which was why they were so surprised when the youngest of the thirteen held up a key.

"The Queen has offered the eleven princes a choice," Hans informed them. "Tomorrow, you will be tried. I think it's safe to say that every one of you is going to be found guilty. If you falsely plead innocent, you will stay here and serve out your full life sentences in this dungeon, which, although I can assure you it is much more pleasant than ours back home, is hardly a royal bedchamber." The younger eleven grimaced almost in unison to this, detesting the idea with a passion. "However," he continued, "if you plead guilty, you can serve five years working on parole with the ice harvesters here in this country, after which you can appeal to be released. If the Queen believes you've reformed, she'll pardon you and allow you to return home."

There was a moment's silence, and then Caspar declared, "I don't believe it."

"Neither do I," said Karl. "The Queen would never let traitors walk around freely in her country."

"She wasn't inclined to it, I'll admit," Hans agreed. "But I…asked a favor of her."

"Now I _really_ don't believe it," Duartr snorted.

"She offered me a clear name in gratitude for my assistance against the Snow Queen, but I turned it down in exchange for shortening your sentences. I'll also be serving three years on parole, under her supervision. After that, I'll be my own man again."

They stared at him. "You…bargained for us?" Jens said, stunned. Hans nodded. "Why would you do something to help us? What do you owe us?"

"Nothing," he said simply. "But you're still my brothers, and I don't want you to suffer."

When the eleven of them (for Agnar still hadn't looked up) glanced around at each other, baffled, Hans handed the key to Balthazar. "Pass it around. Whoever unlocks himself means to say that he'll plead guilty. The choice is yours." They began to do so, still confused, but each choosing to undo his cuffs. When the key finally reached Agnar on the other side of the cell, he accepted it without looking at Leif, but didn't use it. Soon, all eleven of the princes were unshackled, rubbing their sore wrists.

"The guards at the end of this hall will show you to your rooms for the night. Tomorrow, after the trial, Prince Kristoff will send you out to meet your new colleagues. Several of the ice harvesters have agreed to take you on as household servants for the winter, with extra pay from the Crown. In spring, you'll head out with them to the ice floes. Any attempt to escape or undermine the Queen's authority will not be tolerated," he added sharply. "Understood?" They nodded, and Hans gestured to the door. One by one, each left, until only the youngest and eldest were left alone together in the cell.

Hans walked over to Agnar, who was still staring at the ground, not having moved. Hans reached for the hilt of his sword.

"Do it," Agnar said dully, causing the prince to pause. "It'd be a kinder death than I deserve." He closed his eyes.

A soft _thump_ made him open his eyes again, and he saw that Hans had only been unbuckling his sword's sheath from the belt, and had lain it down on the stone bench as a gesture of peace. "A kinder death than we'd both deserve," the younger reminded him. He nodded to the cuffs. "You didn't unchain yourself."

"You spoke only to the others. I assume that my sentence will still be as harsh as my actions warrant."

"Well, that depends on what you consider harsh," Hans said frankly. "The Queen knows that the Southern Isles would face ruin if they were left without their king. She is willing to renegotiate the peace treaty for another twenty-five years."

Agnar laughed humorlessly. "Congratulations. You'll get the crown you've always wanted."

"Hardly. Didn't you hear what I said? I'm serving a sentence, as well. Besides, you couldn't pay me enough to go back there." He hesitated, and then said, "I spoke with Queen Elsa. She is willing to renegotiate the treaty with _you_ as king—and let you return to the Southern Isles."

"What?" Agnar demanded, sure he'd heard wrong.

"Under some conditions, of course," Hans amended. "First, the Southern Isles will have to pay an indemnity—whatever it'll cost to repair the houses damaged by the storm, compensate farmers for lost livestock or crops, pay medical costs, etcetera. Second, you're obviously going to have to reform the council. I know that technically speaking foreign nations can't tell each other what to do–" Agnar snorted, "–But she has…_suggested_ that some internal checks on the Isles' monarchy, along with a few favorable trade agreements, would go a long way to mending the rift between our countries. She's recommending you establish an elected council and end the era of absolute rule."

The Southern Isles had never had an elected council. Neither of them had to say it, and Agnar wisely did not. "And third," Hans said very seriously, "you're going to stop the naval preparations for an invasion and accept several new ambassadors into the Isles to monitor the situation. If Elsa gets _any_ word of you planning some sort of treachery again, she will have you imprisoned and assume the Isles into Arendelle."

"I thought her Majesty valued the sovereignty of nations," the king murmured.

"The Westergaards have attempted a coup against Arendelle's royal family. _Three times." _The youngest brother's face was grave. "We're lucky Elsa doesn't want to go to war over the insult alone. And I've given her everything she needs to know about our navy; Arendelle could outmaneuver us six ways to Sunday now." He shrugged. "But, if you agree to make peace, you'll be allowed to remain there as king."

"You convinced the Queen to allow this?" Agnar said, stunned.

"Well, I wouldn't say it was easy. But yes, I did. I think the knowledge that you'd be putting more power in the hands of the people and stabilizing relations helped–"

"Why?" the elder demanded, cutting him off. "Why are you doing this for us? After the way we treated you—we don't deserve your pity."

Hans shook his head. "You're missing the point, brother." Agnar flinched slightly at the word and looked away. "Forgiveness isn't something you _can_ deserve. The Queen forgave me for my atrocity; now I'm pardoning you of yours."

The king stared at the ground, brow furrowed as if he couldn't understand. Hans sighed. "Agnar, regardless of the bad blood between us, I don't want to see our people suffer. Besides, I've had enough bitterness and hatred to last me a lifetime. Haven't you?"

"…More than I care to admit," Agnar said, voice low.

"Then if you're willing to let bygones be bygones, so am I." Agnar looked over, still uncertain. When he saw the sincerity in his youngest brother's eyes, the king found he could manage to sit up a little straighter, as if a great load had been lifted off his shoulders.

"You're really willing to just…let this go? All of it?" Agnar questioned, just to clarify.

"I really am," Hans said honestly. He held out the key. A moment's hesitance passed, and then Agnar accepted it. He unlocked his hands and then stood, rubbing his wrists. Hans got up, as well. As Agnar headed for the door, he caught the king by the arm. "Agnar… before we leave, I think there is one thing that should be settled between us."

The king looked at him, a hint of fear coloring his green eyes. "When… when I was with the Snow Queen, she showed me several things…things I knew but didn't understand before." Hans braced himself. "All my life, you've called me a thief."

"Hans-" Agnar started, but the prince cut him off.

"No, let me finish. Please." Agnar nodded. "At first, I thought you meant the shard. But…that wasn't all you felt I stole from you, was it?"

The king's eyes found the ground, and Hans sighed. "Agnar, about mother's death… I didn't realize—I never knew my part in it. I'm sorry-"

"No." His older brother's voice was firm. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." He seemed to struggle for a moment, and then said, "Whatever part you may have played, it wasn't of your own volition or intent. And…I am the one who ought to be apologizing, for punishing you for something you never meant to do. Mother...Mother wouldn't have wanted it."

Hans looked at him, startled, and then smiled slightly. "Can you imagine if she could see us now?"

Agnar grunted. "Might cry with joy, though she wasn't one for weeping."

Hans chuckled, and then glanced at his older brother. Agnar glanced back uncertainly. It was one of those funny moments where two people think the same thing at the same time, but neither knows quite how to bring it up. In the end, though, it happened all the same: after a moment's hesitance both brothers pulled each other into an embrace.

"Merry Christmas, Agnar," Hans said earnestly.

Despite himself, the king realized there was just the barest hint of a smile on his lips. "Merry Christmas…little brother."

Hans's eyes widened at that, and then he closed them tight, as if holding back tears. Agnar slapped him on the back, and they separated, both a little bashful and awkward, but in a good way. Then, clearing their throats in a rather silly effort to re-establish their own masculinity, both gestured to the cell door, and walk out of it as equals.

* * *

_The princes looked up as a servant entered the sitting room. "Your mother is ready to see you now," she said gently. "And she said to bring the little ones, too."_

_The palace infirmary was crowded with midwives and nurses, but they all stepped aside respectfully as the princes walked in, the youngest two led by the hands of their elder brothers. As they approached the bedside, the Queen looked up. Her dark brown hair stuck to her neck with sweat and she looked paler than usual, but her green eyes sparkled. Agnar couldn't help but smile with relief; he'd been worried that the difficult birth would be too much for her, but clearly his mother was alright._

_The bundle in her arms shifted, and Agnar saw a round, pink face, which appeared to him to be incredibly small. The infant opened its eyes, and the crown prince noticed that they, two, were same shade as spring grass, happy and alive, that he alone of the twelve had inherited from their mother._

_"Would you like to hold him?" the Queen asked gently._

_The thirteen-year-old prince looked up, startled. "Me?"_

_She nodded, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as she handed him the infant child. The baby peered up at him curiously, and Agnar let out a soft breath of surprise as the infant grasped at his finger. How could something so young and fragile be so intelligent?_

_"What's his name?" one of his brothers asked._

_"Johannes Andreas Westergaard," the Queen answered with a proud smile._

_"Joha- Joh- J-" Gunnar stamped his foot, irritated that he couldn't pronounce the name. The Queen laughed, her voice like a tinkling bell._

_Agnar turned to the eleven, holding the infant in his arms so that they could see. "This is Hans," he said, knowing the nickname would be easier for the younger ones to pronounce. The baby seemed to like it, happily cooing his approval. "This is Hans," Agnar said again. "And he is our brother."_

* * *

Back upstairs, it was with much surprise that Princess Anna of Arendelle felt the new prince tug on her hands, just as a new, joyful dancing song began to play. "Come on," Kristoff urged her, smiling.

"Huh? Why- whoa!" Quite unexpectedly, the prince twirled her and took her waist and hand. He spun them both around twice, in perfect synchronization with the other guests, and then twirled her again.

"Kristoff!" Anna breathed, delighted. "You're dancing!"

"Hey, don't get too excited; it's the only one I know."

"Baby steps," she teased kindly. Then, she bit her lip, chuckling.

"What?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about something," she said dismissively.

"Aw c'mon, you can't just say something like that! Tell me," Kristoff said with a chuckle of his own.

"Well… I was wondering… what we'd name the kids." She smiled nervously, hopefully.

"Kids!" His eyes went wide, but he was grinning. "I- I hadn't thought about that, uh…" He was blushing, and Anna giggled, going red herself.

"I've always liked the name Petter," she informed him.

"Okay then, Petter for a boy…what do you think about Hildá for a girl? After my Ma?"

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I like it."

Kristoff grinned and twirled her around, much to Anna's delighted giggling.

Elsa and Hans were standing a few meters away, both smiling as they looked on. "Should we be staring?" Elsa asked.

"Hm. Probably not." He glanced over at her. "Are you _crying?"_

"No!" she said, wiping her eyes quickly. "Of course not."

"It's okay; I won't judge," he said with a chuckle.

"So," she said, turning to face him. "You spoke to your brothers?"

"I did. All of them have agreed to plead guilty. Agnar's already drawing up plans to have his subjects elect representatives to the council; it'll become a two-house system when—if—my brothers return in five years."

Elsa's face lit up. "Hans! That's wonderful." She hesitated, and then said, "…Are you sure we haven't made a mistake?"

"Are you sure you haven't made one about me?"

She smiled. "I'm sure."

"And so am I."

"If there's one thing I may ask, though," she said, turning her eyes back to the dancing pairs on the floor, "You specifically requested a three-year parole. Why?"

Hans thought for a moment about how best to explain it. "Elsa, I know that you're willing to trust me and that many of your subjects are now, as well. But I don't blame the ones who don't." He looked over at her. "I want to spend every waking hour for the next three years making things right."

"Public service?"

"Precisely. I'd especially prefer spending at least some time in your Navy, if you'd allow it, but of course I'll follow whatever orders Her Majesty may have."

"'Her Majesty?''" Elsa quoted wryly. "Awful formal of you, Admiral Westergaard."

"Admiral? You're too kind."

"Well I-"

"Oh, would you two please just kiss already?!"

Elsa jumped and turned. "Anna!" she hissed at her little sister, who had stopped in front of them alongside Kristoff. Then, Elsa's face changed. "Wait…how did you-?"

"What, know that you're both madly in love with each other? C'mon, it was _so obvious,_" Anna said, rolling her eyes. "Well, Hans told me so himself, but seriously, he woke you up with a _true love's kiss._ I'm pretty sure that counts for something on both your parts."

"And you're not mad?" the Queen said, stunned.

Anna shrugged. "Maybe a month ago I would've been, but…Elsa, I just want you to be happy, _really_ happy, for the better. And if he's what's best for you, then…you have my blessing."

Elsa's face split into a relieved smile. "Anna—_thank you."_

"Of course! Now both of you, get out there and _dance!_ Have fun! Who knows? In a few years, this could be you!"

They both laughed with embarrassment, blushing. When it became clear Anna was not going to leave until they started dancing, Hans held out a hand. "Shall we?"

Elsa bit her lip, and then nodded happily and accepted. As she placed her hand in his, a little puff of steam spilled out, and both jerked away in surprise. "Well," Hans said, eyebrows raised. "That's…new."

The situation was so absurd that Elsa burst out laughing. Hans chuckled. "I guess I don't have as much control over this as I thought."

"That's alright; you'll have a very good teacher," she teased. He smirked back, both of them going pinker still around the cheeks. Hans took her hand again, and they began to dance to the music.

"So," he said, leading her a step back. "Considering this…recent development, I was wondering…what chances would a formerly disgraced and now pardoned prince have of the Queen considering his suit?"

Elsa's eyes went wide. "Prince Hans, is this a marriage proposal?"

"No, no," he hurried to say. "Believe me, I've learned my lesson about hasty proposals." Elsa snickered. "I'm inquiring as to whether you would consider- I mean, if you would care to spend time with-" Great; _now, _of all times, his silver tongue failed him. He could feel his whole face turning as red as his hair. With a sigh, he finished rather lamely, "Elsa, I would like to court you, if you would allow it."

Her face broke into a smile, and said primly (though her cerulean eyes were sparkling), "The Queen would be most honored."

"She would?" Hans said, eyes flying wide. "I mean, you would? That's- that's fantastic, that's-" And before he could come up with another adjective, he found that he was kissing her.

He pulled back almost instantly in shock. Elsa's eyes were just as wide. For several moments, his mouth wouldn't seem to work right, and he couldn't get out a sound until he managed, "Elsa! I'm- I'm so sorry, I don't know what-"

He was so busy trying to apologize that he didn't even notice as Elsa good-naturedly rolled her eyes and stood up on tiptoe. He let out a little "Mmph!" of surprise when she pressed her lips against his, and then relaxed, kissing her back.

A few paces away, Anna smiled as she nudged her husband. "Would you look at that?" she said with a grin as wide as a mile.

"Yeah." Kristoff squinted suddenly. "Hey… are those…"

They were. Sparks and snowflakes had begun to swirl lazily in perfect unison around the pair. Kristoff chortled. "Oh, I am _so_ making fun of him for that later."

"Don't you dare!" Anna said, smacking his arm lightly. "Or I'll tell him about your glasses."

"Eh, I kind of like them, anyways."

Anna gasped with delight. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really." And with that, he twirled her around and kissed her, embracing his wife—_his wife!—_as tightly as he could.

And as the ball continued on, one dance would fade into another, and another after that, until dances became days and days became years, and they all lived happily thereafter, with as much joy and peace as can be expected from those with love in their hearts.


	46. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.**

**A/N: So this is the very last update to the story. It's been wonderful, guys! Hope you enjoy the epilogue, and I love you all!**

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"…Is that the end of the story, Grandma?"

The old woman smiled at the four children gathered about her feet, sitting criss-crossed around her old rocking chair. It was the youngest of these who had asked, a little girl with curly brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't call it 'The End,'" she said with a little laugh. "But that's as much as needs telling tonight."

"But that can't be the end!" another little girl said hotly, with hair the light reddish-gold color of a copper coin in the sun. "There has to be more!"

"Hm? Have I left something out?"

"Just a bit," the second girl's twin brother said mildly, adjusting his glasses. "You didn't tell us whether they ever got married."

"Ah—you mean the Prince and the Queen. Yes, they did eventually marry, and did so quite happily, too."

"Is it all true?" her grandson asked. He had the same brownish hair as his younger sister and a habit of asking questions. "Some of your stories are true and some are not. I like the ones that are true better."

"Son, you oughtn't say such things to your grandmother," scolded a dark-haired man to her left. He was about in his mid-thirties, and wore a silver crown upon his head. He was the boy's father, and seemed embarrassed by his son's overly-inquisitive nature, but the grandmother only laughed.

"Peace, Henrik; it's only a question." She looked to her grandson with a smile. "I can assure you that it's all as real as you and me."

All six glanced up as a knock sounded on the door, and a head popped into the door. "Ah, I thought I'd find you all in here," said a strawberry-blonde haired woman with a wide face and dimpled smile.

"Cousin Hildá," the dark-haired man said, embracing her with a smile. "Come to collect the children?"

"Naturally," the woman replied with a smile. "Kirsten, Aleksander, time to go."

The children complained and pouted, but eventually got up and bid farewell to their second-cousins, including the crown prince. The grandmother watched with a smile as her son looked to his own children. "Now, kids, say goodnight to Grandmother."

They ran up to kiss her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Grandma," the little girl said, throwing her arms around her neck.

"Goodnight, grandmother," the boy repeated. He took his younger sister by the hand and led her from their grandmother's room.

The crown prince looked to his mother. "Children," he said with a sigh, but he was smiling.

"Annette-Elise is getting so big," his mother said with a smile. "Hans-Christopher, too. Soon he'll be all grown up and ready take your place as the crown prince, Henrik."

"Hopefully not too soon," her son with a chuckle. When she did not reply, his green eyes narrowed in concern. "Not… too soon, right, mother?"

The old woman sighed, getting to her feet. "Henrik, my son… that time may be close at hand. In fact, I am certain it is."

"But mother—you're not ill, you're not injured…" He seemed to be pleading with her.

"I am old, my son," she said gently. "It's very near; I can feel it, like a snowstorm in my bones. I'm ready for my happy reward."

He shook his head, still adamant. "At least let me call Petter, or the court physician—_somebody."_

"I have already spoken to Petter; he gave me my Last Rites earlier today. As for the physician, even he cannot stop death. No one can." Her gaze was happy, peaceful. "Your grandfather has passed; my dear sister and her husband, too. All my friends and loved ones have gone before me, and I am ready to see them again. Son, it's my _time."_

He looked about the room, a crushed expression on his face. For several seconds, he struggled to speak, before he asked, "Would you…would you like me to stay with you?"

"If you wish," she said gently. "But I would much prefer you let this old woman rest in peace, and go spend the evening with your wife and children."

"Is there nothing I can do for you?"

She paused a moment, thinking, and then picked up her worn black hymnal from the table beside her chair. The silver clasps were long since tarnished, the leather cracked with age. "My only request," the old grandmother answered, "is that you bury this with me. Within it is my greatest treasure in the whole world. Will you do this for me, Henrik?"

The crown prince's eyes were filled with tears, but he nodded and embraced her frail, thin body. "I love you, mother," he mumbled.

"And I you, my son." She waited until he drew away, and then kissed the top of his brow. Almost invisibly, a shimmer passed over his forehead, a six-pointed figure, translucent and faded within an instant. She touched his cheek gently. "Goodnight, Henrik."

"Goodnight, Mother," he whispered, and then turned and left the room.

She waited until he was gone, the door closing with a soft _click, _before she blew out the lantern and cast the room into a soft darkness. The old grandmother sat back down in her armchair, removed her half-moon wire glasses, and laid them atop the cover of the old hymnal on the bedside table. Letting out a low sigh that spoke of tired joints and old memories, she closed her eyes.

And all the room was quiet, save for the _tick-tock_ of the grandfather clock, out in the hallway.

Then, quite suddenly, there came a clear _knock knock kn-knock knock!_ on the door. "Elsa?" a joyous voice called. "Do you want to build a snowman?"

The woman opened her eyes, crystalline blue, and smiled, her wrinkles gone, her youth restored in its full bloom. She stood up and called back, "Coming, Anna!"

And she went to open the door.

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**A/N: Wow! It's been a long and wonderful ride, folks!**

**I'd like to thank everyone who has supported this story, from its original inception years ago to this final rewrite today. You guys stuck with me through the first writing, with all the good and bad; you were kind enough to forgive its long absence; and you supported me through this rewrite. You are the reason I re-uploaded the story and it's been a pleasure to share it with you.**

**Thanks to you and the chance to republish this story, I've regained a lot of confidence in my abilities as a writer and as an editor. This was the first long story I ever completed back in high school, and knowing I could do it helped me to believe in myself and my dream of being a professional writer. Throughout the course of the last several months, I've found the confidence I needed to pursue that dream again, and seeing your positive response to this story, as well as the joy I've taken in writing it, has been an important part of that. For that, and for everything, I thank you.**

**Some of you may have caught on, but there were a lot of Hans Christian Andersen fairytales woven into this story, the most obvious being **_**The Snow Queen,**_** but here are the others: **_**The Snow Drop, The Ugly Duckling, The Ice Maiden, The Snow Man,**_** _In the Uttermost Parts of the Sea, _and a very brief reference to the bricklayer from **_**Something.**_** Finally, this last epilogue was based primarily on his tale, **_**Grandmother. **_**Likewise, "Deilig er Jorden," a popular Norwegian Christmas hymn, was used by Frode Fjellheim in conjunction with Sámi yoik to create the original "Eatnemen Vuelie." All of these stories and songs can be found online for your reading and listening pleasure.**

**Finally, here is a short explanation of the epilogue: Elsa and Hans had one son, Henrik, who was crown prince (and eventually king) of Arendelle. He had two children, Hans-Christopher (elder, eventually crown prince) and Annette-Elise (younger). Anna and Kristoff had two children, Petter and Hildá. Petter never married; he joined the priesthood and eventually became bishop of Arendelle. Hildá had two children, Kirsten and Aleksander (second cousins to Hans-Christopher and Annette-Elise; all four children were very close).**

**Again, thank you all so very much; your support and encouragement has meant the world to me. For the final time, God bless you all, Merry Christmas, and Peace and Goodwill to you all—**_**Pax et Bonum!**_

**-FFcrazy15**


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